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Chapter 19
22 May 2013: USS Grapple, USS Mahan, USS Carr, USS Ashland, in Bahamian waters, 40 38’ North, 75 24’ West.
Christopher Sterling nudged his roommate, Boris Ustinov. “Twenty minutes ‘til we find out why they interrupted boot camp and handed us the reading list for Underwater Archeology 101. Let’s get our stuff and get down to the well deck.” Boris grunted agreement. They grabbed their kilts and the notebooks they’d been given when they reported aboard and headed aft. They arrived in Ashland’s docking well ten minutes early and waved to the merfolk who were lazing about in the water.
Dex waved up to them. “C’mon in, the water’s fine.”
Chris shrugged. “I’ll stay dry for the moment. They gave me a paper notebook. Any idea where we are?”
Anya Shore stepped into the space in time to hear his question. followed by Zoe Matheson. “Pay more attention to the stars, boy. We’ve been heading nearly due south since we left Norfolk, which should put us in the Bahamas about now.”
Chris grinned. “I’ve been busy reading the underwater archeology stuff. The Bahamas, eh? Always wanted to go there. But what’s it got to do with archeology?”
Anya smiled. “I’d say we’re going to find out soon. They seem to have set up a video system since I was down here last.” A wide-screen television and DVD player was set up near the edge of the well deck, where the merfolk could see it as well as the selkies. There were about fifty chairs lined up in front of it.
“Right you are, Petty Officer Shore.” A burly black CPO stepped through the hatch, followed by a couple dozen enlisted personnel, two human officers, a white wolf-morph in a commander’s uniform, and three civilians. “Grab a seat and we’ll get started.”
Chris smiled. “Chief Samuels! I didn’t know you were aboard. It’s great to see you again.”
The Chief smiled back at him. “I’m on Grapple, son. And I’m pleased to see you decided to join up after all. But save it until after the briefing, the Commander here just flew in for this meeting and needs to get back to her day job as soon as possible.”
The wolf grinned in her own way. “S’all right, Chief. Apprentice Sterling and I have already met. I’m glad to see he ended up in good hands. They treating you all right, Chris? Your sister sends her love.”
The boy nodded vigorously. “They work us pretty hard, but it’s mostly been fun. Tell Karen I love her, too. Even if she is an Airedale.”
The wolf sniffed. “I’ll make sure I tell her that part. But I think the Navy needs a new slang term for the flyers. I believe there actually -are- Airedale Changelings.” She winked. “But the Chief’s right, I need to get through this presentation so you all know what you’re doing. Sit down, and we’ll get started.”
The humans and were-seals took their seats, and the merfolk swam to the edge of the well pool, leaning on the side of it to listen. The wolf nodded as everyone settled down and started the briefing. “Thank you. I’m Commander Lowe, currently serving as Director of NSA, and you’re all here as part of a crash project in locating usable – well, magical technology, I guess, is the best term for it. We have reason to believe that this formation –” The screen lit behind her, showing an image slowly moving along what appeared to be a line of paving stones some twenty feet underwater. “Sometimes called the Bimini Road, is the remnant of an artificial ley-line put together by an ancient civilization that existed during a previous high-magic time. Your job,” she glanced at the civilians, “will be to excavate the site to the greatest extent possible, documenting and recording everything you can, and bringing back samples of everything as well. The military divers and Changelings, as well as the equipment on board Grapple and Ashland, will be available to assist you in any way possible as well as to provide security for the dig. This is important, people. Manhattan Project level important.”
This announcement caused a brief bubble of conversation, and the wolf waited it out. “Yes, -that- Manhattan Project. As the presence of our aquaphilic colleagues demonstrates, the world is changing. One of those changes will be to disable electricity in favor of magic. We need to convert our entire infrastructure within two decades or watch our society collapse as the power dies. The only difference between the Manhattan Project and Project Mirror is that this one doesn’t require the same level of secrecy. We don’t really object to anyone else being able to avoid the same crash we’re trying to dodge.” She nodded acknowledgment as hands went up. “Bear with me. I’m going to give a brief outline, and then you can ask questions. I’m here for background, so save the questions about operational details for the appropriate specialists. How you arrange security or extraction is not in my own need-to-know.”
“Now. From what we’ve been able to determine, the Lemurian civilization reached its height during the last Ice Age, and as a result a great deal of their coastal infrastructure was drowned when the glaciers melted. This is probably a good thing for us, as otherwise it would probably have been destroyed in the time since then. There are sites similar to this at several places in the Med, and we’ve asked the British and our other allies in NATO to conduct parallel excavations. We’re looking for the construction details of the transmission pathways and especially for –anything- that might be a generator or transformer. Our sources know that it was done, but are unfortunately rather vague about -how- it was done. One suggestion by our magical researchers is that the transmission nodes would have utilized quartz spheres or crystals, so keep your eyes open for that sort of thing particularly.” The screen flashed to a map overview. “This is the section of the Road visible from the surface. We hope that more of it is buried under sediment farther out from the islands...”
The Bimini Road is located in a shallow section of the Bahamas Bank, and the Navy ships were not able to come in too close to the work site; even the salvage tug Grapple, the shallowest-draft of the flotilla, risked grounding at low tide. Instead, Grapple’s pair of low-draft working boats ferried the humans to and from the site. Ashland carried four LCAC hovercraft which patrolled the surface perimeter, while the mer and the were-seals rotated between patrolling underwater and assisting the archaeologists.
After two weeks, Chris had decided he liked the archeology side better. The patrols were interesting at first, but after a while boredom set in and they were merely stressful. The archaeologists, though, were finding interesting things. With the profusion of equipment and funding provided by the government, the Road was being systematically dismantled, where before only a few stones had been moved. Three layers of limestone blocks had been removed over the first few days, revealing a silt-drifted tunnel beneath. Marie and Grace, the smallest of the mermaids, were able to explore it for only a short distance in either direction before reaching sections too full of mud to get through, but in that space they had already found what they had been told to expect - a grapefruit-sized crystal sphere. They’d been careful not to disturb it; Dr. Montrose had been quite adamant about that in the daily briefings. “There may be chemical traces of supports or other things that have decayed over time, so we need to sample the surrounding sediments thoroughly before moving anything.” The excavation of the stone blocks to expose the tunnel below proceeded very slowly - and very carefully.
They had done all the sampling and mapping they could think of before moving that first crystal. Today they were going to bring it up. Montrose had gone over the plan in detail at the morning briefing. Wilma was detailed as the cameraman, recording the event in detail in case anything unexpected happened. Two of the salvage divers carefully shoveled silt into bags, preserving everything possible for later chemical analysis. And finally, the crystal was exposed to the sunlight filtering down from the surface. Montrose moved in with a twitch of his swim-fins, and reached down to lift it free of the muck.
He was quite annoyed when it refused to move.
Preliminary Report:Project Mirror
19 JUN 2013
...the surviving crystals appear to have been positioned precisely 31.74 meters apart. Since intact crystals appear to be unmoveable, even when completely excavated and hanging unsupported, the spacing could be measured with great accuracy. Larger gaps are integer multiples of this distance, and are associated with damage to the dig sites consistent with the destruction of the intervening crystals. This may be a solid requirement of the transmission apparatus, a gap dependent on transmission frequency - if the transmission was even wave-based at all - or it may simply have been a convenient spacing in their measurement system...
Two branching points have been located so far. Both meet as three one-hundred-twenty degree angles. This would appear to be a requirement, since the directions do not appear to have been chosen for convenience. At the Malta site, one of the lines required drilling through tough rock, even though a much easier path was available if the direction of the line had been altered by only ten degrees. At this time, no sign of a generating facility has been located...
8 JUL 2013
NSA Director's Office, Washington DC
Dr. Lowe's phone buzzed once, and she looked up from her work to press the button. “Yes?” She'd brought the newly promoted Chief Yeoman Ford over to the National Security Agency as her personal secretary. The little ferret was a genius at running an office and keeping her priorities straight, and she already had the necessary clearances.
“There's a Dr. Besser on the line. Says he's from the CDC and needs to talk to you.”
The wolf frowned. “CDC needs to talk to me? Weird. Well...” She shrugged. “Put him on, I guess.”
“Right away, ma'am.” Ford transferred the call and went back to her duties.
Lowe started the conversation, still puzzled. “Good morning, Dr. Besser. What can we do for the CDC today?”
“Director Lowe? We have a situation developing that the President needs to know about.”
The wolf's ears twitched at the tone of the man's voice. <Goddess, he's exhausted.> “You're Richard Besser, correct? Head of Infectious Diseases? What kind of situation are we looking at?”
“That's right. It's not a pandemic, at least I don't think it is, but CDC has had questions from a -lot- of obstetricians over the past two months. I've spent the past three days going over the data, and there's something really strange going on.”
Lowe snorted. “Six months ago, I wasn't a talking wolf and the Navy wasn't trying to chase down a kraken, Doctor. Strange is the norm these days. I'll admit that my hackles rose at 'obstetricians'. What's the problem?”
“A small but significant fraction of otherwise apparently normal pregnancies are showing what I can only describe as systematic abnormalities. It's around five percent, and few obstetrical specialists are seeing more than one or two – but in the aggregate, we're looking at a lot of babies.”
The wolf's ears were flat against her head. “I am -really- not liking the sound of this, Dr. Besser. What do you mean by systematic?”
“It's only in babies conceived since the Event, and most of the abnormalities fall into one of three patterns. One type is robust, with heavier bones than normal at this stage of development and somewhat distorted proportions. One is gracile, with longer limbs and a much thinner body; again, the proportions of limb to body are outside the norm. The third – and bear in mind that these are six month fetuses – the third has normal proportions for the body, but are starting to develop teeth already. Almost fangs, some of them. And again, the bones are more robust than normal for that stage of development.”
“I didn't have teeth until well after I was born. So we're looking at five percent of post-Event pregnancies being odd in some way?”
“Well, more than that if you count the Changelings. Some of you are breeding true, and some are having normal human babies, strangely enough. But somewhere around five percent of apparently normal humans are not having fully human babies.”
Lowe tapped her claws on the top of her desk. “I'm beginning to think I may have an idea. Can you courier your records up to Washington, Dr. Besser? Redact any personal information, of course – but I'd like to have one of my people look at them. In three months, these kids are going to start being born, and...”
Besser nodded. “And we're going to have a panic if they're noticeably odd and no one is expecting it. I'll get my people to sanitize the records for you and get them up as quickly as possible.”
“That'll be fine. Thank you for telling me about this, Doctor. I'll make sure the President knows in time to get people ready for whatever it is.” She hung up her phone, and hit the intercom button. “Ev? I need to talk to Stardancer, about five minutes ago.”
The Premier was late to the meeting, and his surviving ministers were nervously awaiting his arrival. The air was already blue with cigarette smoke in spite of all that the ventilators could do. Everyone bowed politely and waited for him to sit down when he finally arrived.
Premier Hu Jintao collapsed into his chair and stared at his aides and colleagues as they sat down, all of them silent and waiting for him to speak. He tried twice before succeeding in controlling his voice. “We have lost contact with the Hebei provincial government. There remains one loyal division guarding the city, but the population is restive and the division is badly overextended. This business with legends and magic coming to life has been all too disruptive, and the imperialists and their lackeys have seized the initiative. We need --”
The voice that interrupted him came from outside. It was a brassy bugle, loud as thunder and penetrating into the inner recesses of the People's Congress. “Premier Hu! Your corrupt regime is over. Come and face your judgement!”
The meeting dissolved into turmoil. Some of the ministers ran for the entrance to see what was happening; others ran for back exits to try to escape. Hu simply sat where he was until the rebel squad came to get him. A tiger Changeling wearing a major's insignia hauled him to his feet. “You will come with us.” Hu retained enough dignity to shake off the officer's hand and walk with him. The squad led him out the main entrance, where the dragon waited in Tian'an-men Square, flanked by acolytes human and otherwise. Media camera crews were off to one side, along with several transmitter trucks bearing the logos of the official Chinese news agency and some of the major international ones.
The dragon's voice was still loud, but no longer deafening, as he spoke. “I am Wei Lung, and on this day I return the Middle Kingdom to the rule of the Mandate of Heaven. Hu Jintao, erstwhile Premier of the People's Republic of China, your government was corrupt and oppressive, weakening the Middle Kingdom in the face of its enemies and sapping the morale of its citizens. Thousands, if not millions, have been poisoned by your callous disregard for the very air and water. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
The crowd was silent as Hu straightened his shoulders. “I did what I thought was needed for the good of China and its people. We tried and executed those guilty of corruption when we found them.”
The serpentine body unfolded, and Hu could not help but flinch as the huge fangs came close to him, the dragon's whiskers touching him gently. After a minute, the great creature returned to its coiled posture. “So. You made examples of some, but did not truly try to root out the worst of it... and yet you did not engage in corruption yourself. Ineffectual, but not truly guilty of the worst crimes. Very well.” The dragon turned to glance at the cameras before speaking to the crowd. “It will take us years to cleanse the filth that has been dumped into the air, the water, the very land itself. Until then, Hu Jintao, you will not be permitted to set foot on the soil of the Middle Kingdom. It is my decree that you be exiled until the cleansing has been completed.”
Hu looked up, shocked at the words. “But... but where shall I go?”
“That,” said the dragon, “is not my concern. Major Yun?” The tiger snapped to attention and saluted. “Take him to the airport. Put him on the first flight that leaves China.”
Hu was marched off to a waiting truck. Behind him, he heard the dragon's hiss as the Vice Chairman of the People's Liberation Army was dragged into the square to face judgement.
22 May 2013: USS Grapple, USS Mahan, USS Carr, USS Ashland, in Bahamian waters, 40 38’ North, 75 24’ West.
Christopher Sterling nudged his roommate, Boris Ustinov. “Twenty minutes ‘til we find out why they interrupted boot camp and handed us the reading list for Underwater Archeology 101. Let’s get our stuff and get down to the well deck.” Boris grunted agreement. They grabbed their kilts and the notebooks they’d been given when they reported aboard and headed aft. They arrived in Ashland’s docking well ten minutes early and waved to the merfolk who were lazing about in the water.
Dex waved up to them. “C’mon in, the water’s fine.”
Chris shrugged. “I’ll stay dry for the moment. They gave me a paper notebook. Any idea where we are?”
Anya Shore stepped into the space in time to hear his question. followed by Zoe Matheson. “Pay more attention to the stars, boy. We’ve been heading nearly due south since we left Norfolk, which should put us in the Bahamas about now.”
Chris grinned. “I’ve been busy reading the underwater archeology stuff. The Bahamas, eh? Always wanted to go there. But what’s it got to do with archeology?”
Anya smiled. “I’d say we’re going to find out soon. They seem to have set up a video system since I was down here last.” A wide-screen television and DVD player was set up near the edge of the well deck, where the merfolk could see it as well as the selkies. There were about fifty chairs lined up in front of it.
“Right you are, Petty Officer Shore.” A burly black CPO stepped through the hatch, followed by a couple dozen enlisted personnel, two human officers, a white wolf-morph in a commander’s uniform, and three civilians. “Grab a seat and we’ll get started.”
Chris smiled. “Chief Samuels! I didn’t know you were aboard. It’s great to see you again.”
The Chief smiled back at him. “I’m on Grapple, son. And I’m pleased to see you decided to join up after all. But save it until after the briefing, the Commander here just flew in for this meeting and needs to get back to her day job as soon as possible.”
The wolf grinned in her own way. “S’all right, Chief. Apprentice Sterling and I have already met. I’m glad to see he ended up in good hands. They treating you all right, Chris? Your sister sends her love.”
The boy nodded vigorously. “They work us pretty hard, but it’s mostly been fun. Tell Karen I love her, too. Even if she is an Airedale.”
The wolf sniffed. “I’ll make sure I tell her that part. But I think the Navy needs a new slang term for the flyers. I believe there actually -are- Airedale Changelings.” She winked. “But the Chief’s right, I need to get through this presentation so you all know what you’re doing. Sit down, and we’ll get started.”
The humans and were-seals took their seats, and the merfolk swam to the edge of the well pool, leaning on the side of it to listen. The wolf nodded as everyone settled down and started the briefing. “Thank you. I’m Commander Lowe, currently serving as Director of NSA, and you’re all here as part of a crash project in locating usable – well, magical technology, I guess, is the best term for it. We have reason to believe that this formation –” The screen lit behind her, showing an image slowly moving along what appeared to be a line of paving stones some twenty feet underwater. “Sometimes called the Bimini Road, is the remnant of an artificial ley-line put together by an ancient civilization that existed during a previous high-magic time. Your job,” she glanced at the civilians, “will be to excavate the site to the greatest extent possible, documenting and recording everything you can, and bringing back samples of everything as well. The military divers and Changelings, as well as the equipment on board Grapple and Ashland, will be available to assist you in any way possible as well as to provide security for the dig. This is important, people. Manhattan Project level important.”
This announcement caused a brief bubble of conversation, and the wolf waited it out. “Yes, -that- Manhattan Project. As the presence of our aquaphilic colleagues demonstrates, the world is changing. One of those changes will be to disable electricity in favor of magic. We need to convert our entire infrastructure within two decades or watch our society collapse as the power dies. The only difference between the Manhattan Project and Project Mirror is that this one doesn’t require the same level of secrecy. We don’t really object to anyone else being able to avoid the same crash we’re trying to dodge.” She nodded acknowledgment as hands went up. “Bear with me. I’m going to give a brief outline, and then you can ask questions. I’m here for background, so save the questions about operational details for the appropriate specialists. How you arrange security or extraction is not in my own need-to-know.”
“Now. From what we’ve been able to determine, the Lemurian civilization reached its height during the last Ice Age, and as a result a great deal of their coastal infrastructure was drowned when the glaciers melted. This is probably a good thing for us, as otherwise it would probably have been destroyed in the time since then. There are sites similar to this at several places in the Med, and we’ve asked the British and our other allies in NATO to conduct parallel excavations. We’re looking for the construction details of the transmission pathways and especially for –anything- that might be a generator or transformer. Our sources know that it was done, but are unfortunately rather vague about -how- it was done. One suggestion by our magical researchers is that the transmission nodes would have utilized quartz spheres or crystals, so keep your eyes open for that sort of thing particularly.” The screen flashed to a map overview. “This is the section of the Road visible from the surface. We hope that more of it is buried under sediment farther out from the islands...”
The Bimini Road is located in a shallow section of the Bahamas Bank, and the Navy ships were not able to come in too close to the work site; even the salvage tug Grapple, the shallowest-draft of the flotilla, risked grounding at low tide. Instead, Grapple’s pair of low-draft working boats ferried the humans to and from the site. Ashland carried four LCAC hovercraft which patrolled the surface perimeter, while the mer and the were-seals rotated between patrolling underwater and assisting the archaeologists.
After two weeks, Chris had decided he liked the archeology side better. The patrols were interesting at first, but after a while boredom set in and they were merely stressful. The archaeologists, though, were finding interesting things. With the profusion of equipment and funding provided by the government, the Road was being systematically dismantled, where before only a few stones had been moved. Three layers of limestone blocks had been removed over the first few days, revealing a silt-drifted tunnel beneath. Marie and Grace, the smallest of the mermaids, were able to explore it for only a short distance in either direction before reaching sections too full of mud to get through, but in that space they had already found what they had been told to expect - a grapefruit-sized crystal sphere. They’d been careful not to disturb it; Dr. Montrose had been quite adamant about that in the daily briefings. “There may be chemical traces of supports or other things that have decayed over time, so we need to sample the surrounding sediments thoroughly before moving anything.” The excavation of the stone blocks to expose the tunnel below proceeded very slowly - and very carefully.
They had done all the sampling and mapping they could think of before moving that first crystal. Today they were going to bring it up. Montrose had gone over the plan in detail at the morning briefing. Wilma was detailed as the cameraman, recording the event in detail in case anything unexpected happened. Two of the salvage divers carefully shoveled silt into bags, preserving everything possible for later chemical analysis. And finally, the crystal was exposed to the sunlight filtering down from the surface. Montrose moved in with a twitch of his swim-fins, and reached down to lift it free of the muck.
He was quite annoyed when it refused to move.
Preliminary Report:Project Mirror
19 JUN 2013
...the surviving crystals appear to have been positioned precisely 31.74 meters apart. Since intact crystals appear to be unmoveable, even when completely excavated and hanging unsupported, the spacing could be measured with great accuracy. Larger gaps are integer multiples of this distance, and are associated with damage to the dig sites consistent with the destruction of the intervening crystals. This may be a solid requirement of the transmission apparatus, a gap dependent on transmission frequency - if the transmission was even wave-based at all - or it may simply have been a convenient spacing in their measurement system...
Two branching points have been located so far. Both meet as three one-hundred-twenty degree angles. This would appear to be a requirement, since the directions do not appear to have been chosen for convenience. At the Malta site, one of the lines required drilling through tough rock, even though a much easier path was available if the direction of the line had been altered by only ten degrees. At this time, no sign of a generating facility has been located...
8 JUL 2013
NSA Director's Office, Washington DC
Dr. Lowe's phone buzzed once, and she looked up from her work to press the button. “Yes?” She'd brought the newly promoted Chief Yeoman Ford over to the National Security Agency as her personal secretary. The little ferret was a genius at running an office and keeping her priorities straight, and she already had the necessary clearances.
“There's a Dr. Besser on the line. Says he's from the CDC and needs to talk to you.”
The wolf frowned. “CDC needs to talk to me? Weird. Well...” She shrugged. “Put him on, I guess.”
“Right away, ma'am.” Ford transferred the call and went back to her duties.
Lowe started the conversation, still puzzled. “Good morning, Dr. Besser. What can we do for the CDC today?”
“Director Lowe? We have a situation developing that the President needs to know about.”
The wolf's ears twitched at the tone of the man's voice. <Goddess, he's exhausted.> “You're Richard Besser, correct? Head of Infectious Diseases? What kind of situation are we looking at?”
“That's right. It's not a pandemic, at least I don't think it is, but CDC has had questions from a -lot- of obstetricians over the past two months. I've spent the past three days going over the data, and there's something really strange going on.”
Lowe snorted. “Six months ago, I wasn't a talking wolf and the Navy wasn't trying to chase down a kraken, Doctor. Strange is the norm these days. I'll admit that my hackles rose at 'obstetricians'. What's the problem?”
“A small but significant fraction of otherwise apparently normal pregnancies are showing what I can only describe as systematic abnormalities. It's around five percent, and few obstetrical specialists are seeing more than one or two – but in the aggregate, we're looking at a lot of babies.”
The wolf's ears were flat against her head. “I am -really- not liking the sound of this, Dr. Besser. What do you mean by systematic?”
“It's only in babies conceived since the Event, and most of the abnormalities fall into one of three patterns. One type is robust, with heavier bones than normal at this stage of development and somewhat distorted proportions. One is gracile, with longer limbs and a much thinner body; again, the proportions of limb to body are outside the norm. The third – and bear in mind that these are six month fetuses – the third has normal proportions for the body, but are starting to develop teeth already. Almost fangs, some of them. And again, the bones are more robust than normal for that stage of development.”
“I didn't have teeth until well after I was born. So we're looking at five percent of post-Event pregnancies being odd in some way?”
“Well, more than that if you count the Changelings. Some of you are breeding true, and some are having normal human babies, strangely enough. But somewhere around five percent of apparently normal humans are not having fully human babies.”
Lowe tapped her claws on the top of her desk. “I'm beginning to think I may have an idea. Can you courier your records up to Washington, Dr. Besser? Redact any personal information, of course – but I'd like to have one of my people look at them. In three months, these kids are going to start being born, and...”
Besser nodded. “And we're going to have a panic if they're noticeably odd and no one is expecting it. I'll get my people to sanitize the records for you and get them up as quickly as possible.”
“That'll be fine. Thank you for telling me about this, Doctor. I'll make sure the President knows in time to get people ready for whatever it is.” She hung up her phone, and hit the intercom button. “Ev? I need to talk to Stardancer, about five minutes ago.”
The Premier was late to the meeting, and his surviving ministers were nervously awaiting his arrival. The air was already blue with cigarette smoke in spite of all that the ventilators could do. Everyone bowed politely and waited for him to sit down when he finally arrived.
Premier Hu Jintao collapsed into his chair and stared at his aides and colleagues as they sat down, all of them silent and waiting for him to speak. He tried twice before succeeding in controlling his voice. “We have lost contact with the Hebei provincial government. There remains one loyal division guarding the city, but the population is restive and the division is badly overextended. This business with legends and magic coming to life has been all too disruptive, and the imperialists and their lackeys have seized the initiative. We need --”
The voice that interrupted him came from outside. It was a brassy bugle, loud as thunder and penetrating into the inner recesses of the People's Congress. “Premier Hu! Your corrupt regime is over. Come and face your judgement!”
The meeting dissolved into turmoil. Some of the ministers ran for the entrance to see what was happening; others ran for back exits to try to escape. Hu simply sat where he was until the rebel squad came to get him. A tiger Changeling wearing a major's insignia hauled him to his feet. “You will come with us.” Hu retained enough dignity to shake off the officer's hand and walk with him. The squad led him out the main entrance, where the dragon waited in Tian'an-men Square, flanked by acolytes human and otherwise. Media camera crews were off to one side, along with several transmitter trucks bearing the logos of the official Chinese news agency and some of the major international ones.
The dragon's voice was still loud, but no longer deafening, as he spoke. “I am Wei Lung, and on this day I return the Middle Kingdom to the rule of the Mandate of Heaven. Hu Jintao, erstwhile Premier of the People's Republic of China, your government was corrupt and oppressive, weakening the Middle Kingdom in the face of its enemies and sapping the morale of its citizens. Thousands, if not millions, have been poisoned by your callous disregard for the very air and water. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
The crowd was silent as Hu straightened his shoulders. “I did what I thought was needed for the good of China and its people. We tried and executed those guilty of corruption when we found them.”
The serpentine body unfolded, and Hu could not help but flinch as the huge fangs came close to him, the dragon's whiskers touching him gently. After a minute, the great creature returned to its coiled posture. “So. You made examples of some, but did not truly try to root out the worst of it... and yet you did not engage in corruption yourself. Ineffectual, but not truly guilty of the worst crimes. Very well.” The dragon turned to glance at the cameras before speaking to the crowd. “It will take us years to cleanse the filth that has been dumped into the air, the water, the very land itself. Until then, Hu Jintao, you will not be permitted to set foot on the soil of the Middle Kingdom. It is my decree that you be exiled until the cleansing has been completed.”
Hu looked up, shocked at the words. “But... but where shall I go?”
“That,” said the dragon, “is not my concern. Major Yun?” The tiger snapped to attention and saluted. “Take him to the airport. Put him on the first flight that leaves China.”
Hu was marched off to a waiting truck. Behind him, he heard the dragon's hiss as the Vice Chairman of the People's Liberation Army was dragged into the square to face judgement.
Category Story / All
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