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Legends of the Sky Hurricane
Chapter Eighteen - Tōbō-sha (Fugitive)

Chapter Eighteen - Tōbō-sha (Fugitive)

The Imperial Japanese State operates on the dual principles of culturalism and a responsibility to protect those of their culture. Simply put, anyone culturally Japanese or a culture similar to theirs is part of Imperial Japan. This means that If they go to a Reality where there is a culture that approximates theirs and speaks a similar language, they would be welcomed with open arms by the Empire. The species of the inhabitants does not matter to this principle. All they care about is if the inhabitants are culturally Japanese. Imperial Japanese embassies are on Verne, Union, Anglio, and Newhome.

The principle of 'responsibility to protect' covers anyone they view as culturally Japanese extends to using their armed forces. It is extremely common to use all the forces at their disposal to protect any nations that have joined the Empire. In the case of Verne, several wings of fighter and bomber planes staved off an Imperial Russian attack on the Japanese colonies in Siberia. This protection does come at a rather high cost.

The Renketsu Gensoku or Consolidation (Principle) Project was born out of these dual principles. First, any culturally Japanese area is part of the Empire, whether they know it or not. Secondly, the area will be brought under Imperial rule sooner or later whether on not the inhabitants wish to be part of the Empire. This has caused great friction with other nation-states, notoriously sparking conflict with the GmbH over Realities they had trade relationships with before IJ has discovered them. The Consortium was formed partially to resolve disputes like this.

An Overview of The Imperial Japanese Consolidation Project

By Yaro Potgieter

InterReality Political Science Review

2130 ESC

When Krita Shinawatra grew up in the Imperial Japanese territory of Siam, the vidscreen would often show other Realities’ versions of Japan joining the Empire under the consolidation project. They were happy and highlighted how satisfied the inhabitants were afterward. Happy people showed how the transfer of technology and magic tech had improved their lives. Crops were bountiful, the roads were new, and healthcare was top-notch. Imperial Citizens often moved to new Realities as advisors or to retire. Since graduating from Tohoku university, he had worked for Wealth Creation Land Holdings Group, one of the many companies that supported the consolidation. It had started as a wonderful patriotic job. They would find other Japanese throughout the separate Realities and show them the wonders they could do together. He was on the survey missions that entered different Realities to find culturally Japanese people. They would determine if their technology would work and if that version of Japan was suitable for either contact or colonization.

The job was both exciting and dangerous. First, the survey teams would find a new reality, have their Navigator open a Gate, and enter via skyship. Then they would take air and mana levels, determine if the place was safe for habitation and avoid any technologically advanced inhabitants. Finally, they would go to the Home Islands and determine if they were inhabited by the Japanese or some other civilization. If they were Japanese, they would determine if they were worthy of being contacted or not. Then they would either contact the government or just mark it and leave a beacon to return later. His job was to infiltrate local computer systems of technical Realities and get as much information as possible.

The war had been on most of his career, so he had thought nothing of having the military along during most missions. Often they would find an uninhabited place and drop beacons so they could set up gates and a base from which to strike back at the Sidhe. The problem came when the war finally ended, and the Court decided they would keep going and setting up more military bases. The military never left the survey ships and had started treating civilian surveyors like him more like slaves than highly trained and valued employees.

Now he was to go in and be directed by military personnel, who weren’t even officers, and infiltrate computer systems for military goals. Viruses and logic bombs were laid throughout the computer systems for an eventual invasion by the Imperial Army if diplomacy failed. He had only witnessed it once two years ago, and it was enough to turn his stomach. This version of Japan was about one hundred years behind technologically. The government here had refused the Imperial Envoy and disgraced their flags by burning them in front of the Diet as ‘fakes’ and shooting upon their skyship as they left.

In response, his programs had disabled all the networked technology that the Japan of this Reality had been using. The communication grid stopped, aircraft could not rely on autopiloting, auto-driving cars stopped, trains crashed, and all the networked electrical grids failed. People died in the thousands before the Imperial Army came in via Gates onto all the army and airforce bases. Then, their higher-tech hordes of combat robots, hover tanks, and power suits began invading in waves killing and hunting down all units loyal to the current government that they could find. Losses were high, but the Empire had a large army.

After gaining military control of the bases, the Imperial army offered disaster relief and infrastructure repair to the civilian population when the battles were over. The natives suspected they had been invaded and conquered but getting the country fixed was the first priority. Soon the government was replaced by a military one under disaster protocols. The rest of the planet had noticed and were lodging protests and sending their military to watch how this ‘civil war’ unfolded. The Empire gated over several orbital battle stations to watch over the transfer of power, dropping kinetic kill devices as fleets neared Japanese waters and shooting down the few missiles sent to them.

Then the rebellions started from the people who had noticed, mainly from the rural areas. These were suppressed with mechanical efficiency with drones and soldiers who knew that these were not their people they were killing. Shinawatra was made to undo the damage he had done, then unceremoniously sent back home. Again, the vids blared that another Japan had chosen to join the Empire and peacekeepers were needed. The vidscreen was once again full of happy new Imperial subjects joyous to join their brethren and how the Imperials had improved their lives.

And it was all a lie… One that, if he revealed it, Krita would be killed, his family would be killed, his friends interrogated, and, of course, possibly killed. That was a year and a half ago, and he had been slowly instigating fights with his family to the point they would disown him. In addition, through carefully calculated ignoring and bad social interactions, he had cut ties with almost every person he loved. The arguments with his parents had been particularly horrible for him. It felt like a knife twisting in his guts as he called his mother an old harpy that was evil beyond measure. All to protect them.

The duplicity was needed, or what he was doing now would get them all killed. He was running. There was another version of Japan that he was to escape to. It was newly contacted, not by the Empire, but by Stormers who used it as a rest stop and retirement home. Krita had been planning to leave as soon as he caught wind of it during one drunken night in a Santa Onofre dive bar popular with Stormers. It was adjacent to the corporate sector but not in the city center. Through his brilliant programming skills, he built up contacts by doing illegal jobs for them via underground job boards at night while working up viruses and infiltration programs for his company during the day.

He began frequenting bars, not only with his bosses but also going to hostess bars on his off time. He cultivated the image of a carefree spendthrift who cared nothing for his family and spent all his money on booze and ladies of the night. Many of the girls he frequented were Stormer contacts to whom he passed off his programming work. Slowly he had built up a nest egg that he would use to escape. A route was planned, and supplies through his contacts were purchased and dropped off at an abandoned town. Then, a month before his planned escape, he spotted a listing for someone who had protected her client and the opposing team against a double cross. It was one entry, one job done, then she had vanished. One job with a perfect ten out of ten for the client… and another perfect ten from the client’s rival. There was also a note from Sacred Heart Medical’s Extraction crew saying how they appreciated her actions.

He checked into her, but the information was surprisingly sparse. Her profile said she was ex-Storm League Special Forces and willing to work with single clients. However, her hiring status was greyed out as she had deactivated her account. What was weird was that she was still working in Santa Onofre as an odd-job mechanic, warehouse worker, and at various fast food places. Her clients here gave her six out of ten, not outstanding, but not horrible. They said she wouldn’t do anything other than what was in the contracts and would not be allowed near food preparation. She had put curry powder into the taco mix and ruined a batch. She made it up by working extra hard and repairing all the kitchen equipment. They said the elf was pleasant to work with, but she was distant and odd. She also successfully finished every one of her contracts without managing to be entrapped in the indenture system.

Krita didn’t care much about her personality and wishes not to do more than what was stipulated in a Santa Onofre contract. He had seen them, and they were masters of entrapment if you did anything outside the scope of your contracted duties. He began to ask around a little bit if anyone had heard of the tall elf, but no one had. So he decided to use her as his escort, not only because she was good at her job, always completed her contracts, and was unknown in Stormer circles. If the Stormers hadn’t heard rumors of the elf, then the Empire surely wouldn’t have heard of her.

Hiring a ship was easy. Privateers would meet him at a tribal area Skyport that many of the Stormers who wanted smaller profiles used. The captain was an odd woman who wore an almost 17 th -century pirate outfit with a frilled shirt, a tri-corner hat, and a long skirt. She was young but beautiful, with a commanding presence and flat personality. Still, he felt he could trust her to meet him at the specified time and place. The Stormer he needed for an escort was harder to contact. He panicked when he saw that she was working for a disreputable company that Stormers had described as close to slavers. They would capture people in contracts, make them sign an indenture, and then sell them off to the highest bidders.

He could go with another Stormer but was certain they would balk if they learned he was running from the Empire or if they saw his route. The electronic tracer within his datasphere was disabled, and he had left an electronic ghost of himself back in his room for the Recovery Unit of his company to chase. He sighed with relief when he saw that she wasn’t caught in indenture on his portable terminals as he sat in a club in Fallbrook, having changed into his disguise. He had had several of his ‘girls’ doll him up, and he placed Augmented Reality over it to make it convincing to anyone with cybernetics. Everything was looking up for his escape. Deprived of funding, the Stormer would have to take his offer - and by the following day, he would be off Reality.

Everything had gone to hell ever since he had met her…

“Aaaah! No! Left! LEFT!” he screamed as the car careened between two burning buildings as shots rang out in the night. Motorcycles pursued them in the small vehicle that she had gotten from some scary woman with a death motif on her clothes and skulls for eyes. Skulls! Bullets spanged off the back and sides as the Bōsōzoku tried their best to kill them both. The car, a KlugAuto, was a small four-wheeled wedge that barely had enough room for Krita and his combat escort, who was definitely not an elf. The biofem was barely in the car herself, hanging out the window and shooting at their pursuers, her feet locked around her seat to hold her in place. The car was completely under her control, though. The steering yoke and control pedals moved with her thoughts even though no one was physically operating them.

The car swerved left, wobbling and weaving between two buildings in a tight alley. The tall biofem had pulled herself back into the car and calmly reloaded her pistol. Her leopard patterning was extremely visible on her skin, and her pupils were huge in her bluish-purple eyes.

“Mr. Shinawatra,” she began, her voice monotonically calm. She pulled a small box from behind the seat and retrieved another two loaded magazines for her huge pistol. “I believe that Packer’s Posse has decided to try to collect your bounty.” Her eyes were not on the road, but the car was nimbly avoiding larger dumpsters and knocking smaller ones out of the way. The car’s sides scraped the sides of the alley as they moved side to side to avoid the most significant hail of bullets.

The bikes followed them into the alley, but they were hampered by its trash-strewn nature. They shot out of the alley and turned left again, back toward where they came from. An explosion lit up the night as the gangers fired some sort of rocket at them. He screamed in panic, balling up in the passenger seat. “I’m gonna die! I’m gonna die!”

The woman looked at him and said with a tiny manic smile, fangs visible over her lips. “You shall not! You are with me!”

Was she excited? At this? He had chosen poorly. The twenty stars had lied to him. This woman was crazy!

She leaned out the window to make three shots. There were explosions behind them, and the car turned right down an alley that wasn’t on the maps. She looked back into the vehicle at him, her frizzy brown hair with its white roots whipping in the open window’s air. “Oh, your company has upped your bounty, Mr. Shinawatra, fifteen alive,” she stated with a flat look that chilled him. She blinked and said, “It appears I have one on my head now as well, but only if my body is returned along with you.” She gave a tiny smile, “I have always wanted to be the most desired girl, but not like this.”

He stared back at her and started to laugh nervously. She was insane to make a joke in this situation. Then, looking back into the rearview mirror, he saw they had picked up another couple of bikes. “Now you’re worth the same as I was if they bring in both of us?” he questioned as she popped out to hit the bikes with each shot she made. She wasn’t missing; each bullet hit its mark.

“I am only worth five,” she said, “They likely are upset that we’re depriving them of dinner. Though I do not think I would taste good to a human.” Then, turning, she fired ahead of them. “Hold on!”

Taste? What the Hell? he babbled in his mind as he grabbed hold of the seat.

The car hit a ramp, and she pulled back into the vehicle, one hand out her window, the other holding onto the seat as the tiny vehicle did a barrel roll, and she fired out the window as Krita screamed for his life. There was a bone-jarring crunch as they hit the ground, and the car stopped. It looked like they had landed on the other side of a roadblock with gang members everywhere. Althea got out of the vehicle, her rifle in one hand and the pistol in the other.

“Get her!” he heard someone scream.

Flashes lit the night up as he tried to make himself small in the car, doubled into a ball in the passenger seat. There was the hum of the laser and pops of guns, even the buzzsaw sound of someone spraying bullets from a mini Ripley gun. The spinning barrelled devices were a mainstay on larger vehicles and could spew thousands of bullets in moments. First, it fired in a long burst, then stopped. The car rocked, and the roof bent as something heavy landed on it momentarily before it rocked as something leaped from the roof. He looked up, but the area was shrouded in gunsmoke and flames, eerily lighting up the night. A figure in black was systematically killing the gangers, firing, and moving on to the next one. There were bodies everywhere. Suddenly there was a huge white light from above and the sound of jet engines as the smoke was pushed away.

“Stop where you are! This is Wealth Creation Land Holdings Group Security! We are recovering our assets. Any movement will be considered a hostile act and met by deadly force!” a loudspeaker boomed in Modified Japanese from a large rectangular wedge floating over the battlefield. Spotlights stabbed down at the intersection, highlighting piled-up cars, people screaming in the street, and a truck with the Ripley gun with a dead operator slumped at the controls.

No! They found me! he screamed internally in panic. Is she going to give me up?

The sound of the guns of the corporate security vehicle hit his ears moments after fire stabbed out at gang members that were trying to leave. Althea stood there unmovingly staring at the vehicle for long moments, her queue moving in the jetwash. Then she wasn’t there, and the guns were firing wildly, trying to hit her. There was a crunch, and he looked to see her pry the Ripley gun from its mount. He expected her to run with it, and she did. But instead of fleeing, she pointed it up at the vehicle and fired long bursts, hitting the gun pods and jet intakes. The security vehicle was firing back but seemed to be a beat or two behind her, hitting where she was moments before she changed position. When they did hit near her, a shield made out of lightning and fire flickered to life for milliseconds.

The security vehicle lurched to the side and began to spew fire and smoke. Its guns had fallen silent as it tried to gain altitude. Althea fired some more bursts at them in the heavily armored liftstone pods, and the vehicle shook. The jets whined as the pilot inside hit the accelerator, the aircraft leaping in an odd pattern as they attempted to flee. Althea fired after them a few times, but it didn’t look like she was trying to hit them.

The woman carried the Ripley gun over her left shoulder and walked back toward Krita as he stared in horrified fascination. She pulled her holstered pistol out and fired it into moving gangers she barely acknowledged as targets as she walked towards him. Her dark green jacket had some holes in it, and her arm and leg armor had several silver spots where bullets had impacted and removed the paint. The man shivered as he saw her face. She had a feral grin that was more a bearing of the teeth than anything. When she noticed him looking at her, she closed her mouth and hurried over.

“Are you safe, Mr. Shinawatra?” she asked, her voice flat.

He nodded slowly. ‘I… you… my company…” he stammered.

“We have a contract,” she replied. “I will fulfill it unless you betray me.” She looked at the car and let out a huge sigh. “This will not do. I must get you to the skyport, so I can pay Lil Yaz for this car.” She gave him the ghost of a smile, and he saw that she was actually beautiful in addition to being terrifying. “Let us take one of these vehicles as they no longer require them.”

###

The tough little six-wheeled ute was somewhat bumpy, but it handled the ruined roads well as they climbed into the hills south of the Pala gang territory. Old Lilac Road was crumbling and mainly impassible except for a vehicle like this. The distance to the abandoned town where his supply drop was located wasn’t that far, but the terrain was less than ideal. The maps Krita consulted showed roads, but they were dirt tracks that had been washed out and almost erased by time.

Most people assumed that a Reality as built up as Erde was urbanized entirely, but that wasn’t true. They had megacities, to be sure. There was suburban sprawl and, of course, the orbital ring and space colonies. But there were still places like this where no one desired to live. Who would want to commute through crumbling suburbia to work in Santa Onofre? Sure, you could see the shining beacon of the city with lights of skyships and aircraft of all sorts in the distance, but this area was pitch black. To the east, there were the Tribal Autonomous regions, they had some electrical lighting here and there, but mostly they eschewed lighting up their cities at night.

Even now, their vehicle was driving without lights. Althea had pulled the fuses for them and the Network beacon out of the six-wheeled hydroelectric vehicle. The only sounds that greeted him were the engine’s whine and the night’s animals. There was an overwhelming smell of chaparral and sage in the air that thankfully washed out the old beer and cigarette smells of the vehicle.

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“Miss d’Argus, how are you seeing?” he finally asked, wanting to break the silence.

“I have bled for you,” she stated, “Call me Althea.” The woman was focused on the road and driving the ute manually. It was apparently so old that the cybernetic controls had all failed.

“Umm yes, Althea,” he said, a little reluctant to leave the formality behind. “How do you see? It’s pitch black out here.”

Without looking away from the road, she said, “I can see in low light conditions.” She pointed to the waning gibbous moon. “There is enough light from the moon that it seems like daylight to me.”

“That must cause problems when you try to sleep,” he stated.

She shrugged, “I am used to it.”

Thinking hard, he finally asked, “Why did you say those people trying to catch me were upset about their dinner?”

She paused and said, “Oh, that? Packer’s Posse are well known as cannibals.”

His skin grew cold in fear. “Cannibals? They eat people ?” he said, staring at her. She has to be pulling my leg. Right?

She nodded. “They are named after Alferd Packer, the notorious Colorado Cannibal from almost three hundred years ago.” She paused, “Though they usually don’t eat anyone except those they fight. Something about taking their strength into themselves, I think. A possibly magical practice.”

He laughed nervously. “They didn’t fight me so….”

The biofem gave out a sound that may have been a laugh, “Probably would have just eaten one of your fingers.” She looked at him sidelong to see him blanch before she laughed for real. “You are too weak for them to want to eat. They would have tried to eat me, been sickened, and possibly died.”

“Ok, new subject, why has my company not come after us in the last hour?” he asked, wanting to not talk about the possibility of becoming someone’s dinner.

“Oh, I believe they are gathering more forces, Althea replied. “They assumed, like you did, that I was an elf. They are now aware that I pose a greater threat and must arm accordingly.”

She turned into the hills and avoided some large rocks in the road. Ruined houses and buildings began to appear here and there. As they turned down the country road, Krita’s breath started to show in ragged puffs, and so did Althea’s. The desert landscape began to grow green, and short pine trees were spotted among the boulders and the occasional yucca or Joshua tree. It looked like there were small ponds here and there.

Maybe a lot of skyships come through here, he thought. That would explain the water. It’s awfully cold, though. The temperature must’ve dropped much lower than the 6 celsius it was supposed to be this time of year, as he was starting to shiver. Warmth enveloped him as a dark green jacket was placed over him.

“Sorry for the bullet holes,” Althea said. He could see that there were some silver spots and two holes in her armor. The holes looked dark like blood had welled up, but there was a bit of silver in there too.

“You’re wounded?” Krita asked quietly. She said she had bled for him, but he didn’t think she meant literally.

She nodded and slowed the vehicle, leaning her head out the broken side window. “Yes, the bullets have been expelled, but my nanites are working overtime to repair me.” The car stopped, and she peered out into the eerily moonlit landscape. “Where was your supply cache? Also, what is in it? I may need more energy cells.”

“Oh, I had them place it in the center of town. This road goes through it, and then we head west down the hill through the avocado groves and north to the airport. We should hit Cahuilla territory when we get to the groves,” Krita said as he put on Althea’s jacket. It warmed him immediately and smelled nice, like apples.

“What’s in it?” she asked as the vehicle started up again. They were moving slower and driving around spots in the road.

“Oh, supplies for starting a new life in a lower-tech Reality. A small fabricator to make things I need and food supplies for a few months. Then, computers so I can make a fake identity for myself and get a job and lodging,” He said, relaxing into the ute’s bucket seat. “I’ve also got some weapons in there for self-defense.”

The ute turned down another road, and they crested a hill. There were no more night sounds, just the gentle hissing from the hydrogen cells. There was a concrete sign saying, “Welcome to Lilac,” it was barely visible in the moonlight. There was paint across Lilac saying Hell Hole. You could see the town and the city center from the top of the hill. Rotted buildings led to the town’s center, where a small fog-enshrouded, ice-covered lake could be seen. Their view was broken up by small streets littered with broken-down cars from fifty years ago. The buildings of the main town were all ruined and soggy. Everything was covered in a rime of frost, which moonlight made glow an eerie blue.

Althea sighed and said, “You told them the center of the town?” She looked at him as his eye widened at the scene.

“This isn’t right,” he mumbled, “We’re still near northern Texico. It shouldn’t get below six degrees here.” He saw his breath vapor billowing like a cloud, and his teeth started chattering.

“It is minus forty,” she said calmly. Then, Althea suddenly reached into the back of the ute and grabbed her rifle. She changed the energy cell and pulled his seat’s adjuster, pushing him down to a laying position.

“What?” he squawked. Oh no, she’s going to kill me.

Althea popped back up and made a clicking sound with her tongue. “It’s no use. They have found us.” She said and forced his pistol into his hands. “If one sticks its head in here, shoot it without mercy.”

“What? What has found us?” he squawked. “Shoot, what?”

Althea looked at him flatly and said, “The undead.” She stepped out of the vehicle and closed the door.

She didn’t say what I think she just did. Did she? he thought. A low growl started from outside the ute that raised in volume and depth until it reached a crescendo. It chilled him to his core, and fear made him shake. What the hell was that?

Another howl started in answer to that call. It sounded like a huge angry jaguar – long, low and catlike. It made Krita’s hair stand up and reminded him of the horrors his ancestors must’ve felt when cats were stalking them in the night. Krita looked over and saw that Althea had her laser rifle in one hand and her sword in the other. Her mouth was wide, with her fangs showing as she returned the challenge. Then, there were smaller amounts of hooting sounds he started hearing. They sounded like many people chanting, “hey, hey” over and over.

Peering over the top of the dashboard, Krita saw a sight that froze his soul. Thirty meters away in the lake’s center was an emaciated, pale-skinned giant with a distended stomach like a famine victim. It was covered in ragged black hair, hands overly huge for its body that curved into claws, a dark mouth filled with jagged, sharp teeth, and two huge eyes that glowed like stars. It must have been four meters tall, as it towered over the others that only reached its knees or stomach. They were similar, except they wore remnants of clothing, ranging from military uniforms to police and gang colors. They were all emaciated like the Giant, but their eyes were red.

One of the smaller ones rushed the car leaping from the roof of a nearby building. Althea moved out of the way of its outstretched claws and beheaded it. It hit the ground, and she kicked it hard in the chest. He could hear crunching like she had stomped on a glass bottle and popped it. Then she lifted her laser rifle, and the device made three rapid high-pitch whines. When he looked at the group of creatures, three of them had fallen to the ground, holes in their chests smoking. The Giant howled again, but it didn’t scare him as much this time. What did scare him was the twenty or so creatures rushing forward toward the car. Again, Althea began shooting them; this time, he saw what the device was doing. Typically lasers were invisible. However, with the fog from the ice, he could see a tiny green light beam hitting them as they rushed forward. The ones she hit in the chest, he could see afterimages of their hearts and spines pulsing green like they were caught in glass for a moment.

Several of them went to all fours and began rushing faster. The laser was less effective, and Althea rushed forward to meet them with her sword. It was a blur as she stepped between the ragged monsters, their fetid rotting stench reaching him. Her sword went down on the left, taking off a creature’s head, while the rifle on the right blew chunks off of one rushing her. Krita gripped his pistol and tried to make himself small, eyes darting on all the windows of the ute, thankfully, only the driver’s side was broken, and the passenger’s side had been rolled up.

The ute rocked, and he saw one of the things on the hood with its back to him. Ice crystals jutted from the skin of its back like a spine made out of icicles. Black blood leaked from where the crystals broke the skin. He thought it might have once been a gang member from the ragged jacket that hung off its arms. He started breathing heavily. It turned and looked at him with its glowing red eyes, and its deep hunger pierced him. It had no lips, only jagged teeth filled with shreds of meat. A clawed hand slammed against the windshield once, and cracks appeared in the glass. It was bulletproof, as evidenced by the small divots there when they got the vehicle. But now it was cracking under this thing’s fists. It pulled back, and then its skeleton lit up green. Krita stared in horror as he watched it vomit quick-melting black ice out of its mouth and fall onto the hood before rolling off.

The ground started shaking, and the back door of the ute popped open. He swiveled his gun in response and screamed at the gory creature staring in at him. He fired twice and missed both times. It shook its head and said in Althea’s voice, “I am lucky you are a bad shot.” Then she grabbed the Ripley from the back seat and slammed the door again. The ute bounced rhythmically as something huge walked past the vehicle, white treetrunk-sized legs moving in time with the bouncing. The temperature dropped as it walked past, and frost formed everywhere, his borrowed jacket covered in ice instantly. First, he heard machinery spinning, then the buzzsaw sounds accompanied by angry howling. These howls turned his blood to ice this time. Being so close to the creature must have an increased effect.

The car shook and was lifted up from the driver’s side. When he looked, a piece of a house was resting on the ute, its roof squashed a little. A scrabbling hit his passenger side window, and it burst, covering him with glass. A clawed hand reached in and grabbed his jacket, pulling him up to face one of the monstrosities. His gun came up, and he pulled the trigger, hearing it go off three times. He was still pulling the trigger as it let go and fell back out of the ute. Scrabbling in his purse, he popped the magazine and reloaded it just as another one of the red-eyed creatures came for him, teeth first. It fell back with two bullets in its now ruined face.

There was a shaking of the ground as something heavy hit it. Then, a horrible wailing carried through the streets that was felt as a low vibration through Krita’s body. The street turned orange as a fire started somewhere. One of the creatures he had shot suddenly appeared at the window again, the bullet holes in its face oozing black ichor mixed with ice.

He screamed as he fired the gun, high-pitched and loud, “Althea!” The creature took the bullets, and its eyes blazed red as its arms reached in and swiped at him with long claws, cutting through his jacket, ballistic suit, and flesh. “No! No, I’m not gonna die here!” The creature lurched to the side as another figure clawed its face and neck. The new one balled up its fists and punched it in the head, and he heard a glass-like crunch. Its arms flailed about the car before it was yanked out, and the new one stomped on the creature repeatedly until he heard another pop like a sake bottle breaking.

The new one turned towards the car, its eyes glowing a light purple. He blinked and saw it was Althea. She was covered head to toe in gore. “Mr. Shinawatra,” she said. “Are you injured?”

He began weeping, “Yes, yes.”

She nodded and said, “I shall get you a healing serum. They didn’t ruin all of that part of your package.”

My package? She got my package? he thought incoherently.

Moments later, she opened his door and poured the serum into his mouth. The warmth of the healing serum filled him, but some spots where the creature had scratched him were still icy cold.

The Mechanese woman looked at him, scratches all over her face, and one of her ears sliced through but still intact. Glittering silver slime covered her wounds. He thought he saw bits of black ichor being pushed out of them. “You went to get my package while I was being attacked?” he accused.

She shook her head, “The Giant had it strapped to its back. I think it was its treasure. I have retrieved what was usable, including your weapons, fabber, and computer.”

He shivered. “The Giant, it’s?”

She got an almost proud expression on her face, “Dead. Or as dead as I can make it. My sword is wedged in its spine under the skull, and I set fire to its heart, but that may only immobilize it.” She paused, pulled out of the ute to go to the other side, and heaved away the partial wall that was pressing on the vehicle. Then, opening the door with a creak, she tossed some equipment to the back seat, got in, and sat in the driver’s seat. “We should go. Most of them are dead or dying, but this town will need to be burned to remove the infestation. But they may revive if we dally.”

His eyes grew wide. “Revive? But they… I saw you stomp on them and the laser wounds.”

She grunted and started the engine. The car lurched as it moved, driving a bit wobbly. “Ah, yes, the undead do that regularly. Hopefully, it fails to function, but I am not taking any chances with your safety.”

They sat in silence as they drove through the ruined town. Krita saw signs of cannibalism everywhere, with human remains hung out to freeze dry in the bitter cold. Bones were in piles all over the place, skulls crushed and left around the fronts of ruined storefronts, and frozen blood was on everything.

Krita let out a ragged sob, “How could this happen? This is Erde. We don’t…”

“You do,” Althea said quietly. “Erde still has a twenty magic rating, not five like Mechanon.” He stared at her as she continued. “I was briefed by the League Special Forces about infestations like this happening in lonely places before I came here.” She looked out the window as they left the town and headed west towards a long road. She let out a long ragged breath, that clouded the interior of the ute briefly. “And Mr. Shinawatra, this is a very lonely place.”

An hour later, they drove into a small checkpoint. Althea talked to the guard, who was reluctant to let them through due to the state of the car, as covered in gore and viscera as it was. She talked to him, gesturing at the car and showing him her wounds. Then she mentioned a few names, and the guard let them through but not before they had to give up two of his weapons. His scratches continued to get colder and colder as they headed through the avocado and almond groves surrounding the area around the skyport. Althea handed him a healing serum every fifteen minutes, which dissipated the cold and pushed it back. He mused that they would be out soon. These cost about 200Marks each , he thought deliriously.

It rained on them several times as ships entered or exited the Hurricane. He hoped the water was washing off the viscera and gore from the car so they wouldn’t be stopped at another guard post. This time they were let through without having to lose anything more. A brightly lit hanger received them. In it sat a large skyship that looked like it was made two centuries ago, rounded and aerodynamic with pylons filled with weapons racks under small wings. Althea got out of the car to walk over to the female captain with whom he had booked passage. He shivered as he saw Althea pointing to him and the car. He thought he heard the word “witiagan” but was unsure. Blinking, he soon felt himself pulled out by a young, tough-looking redheaded girl who carried him over to a couch. She was strong and carried him like someone else might carry a small child. He saw that Althea had sat down on the hangar floor and had her eyes closed.

“Lie down here,” the redhead said in different Japanese than he was used to. A Kansai accent, maybe? “We’ll getcha fixed up.”

Soon a green-eyed blonde girl with her hair in a twintail style rushed over to him. “Oh no! Oh no! He’s infected!” she said and placed her hands on him. “Hold still, Sir! This might feel weird.”

Warmth flooded him, and an icy breath escaped his lips. He thought he saw golden light around the blonde’s hands but was unsure as he shivered. Soon black water bubbled out of his wounds, and he started to feel better. He began to feel warm again as he looked into the blonde’s eyes. “Thank you,” he said quietly. She nodded and ran over to Althea.

“Holy crap! She’s barely holding on!” the blonde said as she placed her hands on his escort. This time he did see an almost actinic golden light leave her hands. He finally noticed that all the crew’s girls were wearing skirts of different colors.

Another girl came out of the skyship, this one a short brunette with blue eyes. She looked over to Althea and put her hands on her hips. “Again?” she asked in exasperation.

The blonde made a face and said to the brunette, “Pot calling kettle, come in kettle.” The brunette shrugged and turned to the redhead and the captain.

They deliberated for a few moments, and the captain pointed to the short blonde and the redhead. Then, looking grim, she nodded. “You two, take the ship’s boat and purify that area,” the woman said in an archaic dialect of Japanese. The brunette seemed to object but was overruled.

Krita let out a sigh and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he could tell he was in motion and strapped into a seat. He must’ve fallen asleep. The eternal sunset of the Sky Hurricane shone in through the windows of the skyship. He looked around and saw he was at a small ship’s galley eating area. “Wha?”

“Oh, Mr. Shinawatra, you’re awake,” The captain said as she rounded a corner. She had the same flat expression on her face as when he had met her.

“Yes,” he said and looked over himself. His clothing was still torn up, including Althea’s jacket. Thankfully the ichor from the monsters was gone. But, unfortunately, so was the pleasant apple scent. “My escort?” he inquired.

She nodded, “She was healed and paid. I gave her ten stars on your behalf.” She tossed him back his dataslate. “You know she almost died, right?”

“But she was giving me healing serums,” he stated. “I had enough. Why didn’t she take any herself?”

The captain shrugged, “There was only one left. She said that the rest were ruined by the monsters. So she prioritized your health and hoped she would make it in time to prevent you from turning.”

He shivered again, this time out of fear, not cold. “Turning? What were they?”

She looked at him flatly, “Don’t think of them ever again. We managed to purify your spirit, but if you keep bringing them up, we cannot guarantee they won’t use that to find you again.”

He shook and looked at her, “I’ll do my best.”

Her expression softened, “Go to a shrine and pray often. It helps with more than just this.” She handed him a mug of hot tea as a pale woman with pure white hair peered around the corner. She gave a knowing smile and turned away as the captain left with her.

Krita relaxed and went to sip his tea, noticing a single tea stem floating vertically, half the stem sticking out of the tea. “Well, maybe my luck is looking up after all?”