Chapter 40

“It appears that he spent the winter in Greenland, Mr. President.” The white wolf was once again in the Oval Office for an unscheduled meeting. “We're not sure precisely where, it was overcast when he departed, but from what we could find on the overhead images, one of the southwestern coastal settlements. We can send a few people up with the summer tourists and figure out which one now that the ice has finally broken up. Tahoma has been shadowing him since they picked him up; they have an osprey Changeling on board. I talked to her CO this afternoon and got the details. Apparently the longboat is... automated, if that's the right word. Self-piloting at least to some extent. No radio contact, probably doesn't have one. No radar transponder, of course, so it's a bit stealthy. And he seems to have some ability at weather control, since his little boat has helpful winds, regardless of what's prevailing. Petty Officer Harcourt – that's the osprey – reported that there is some weird turbulence about three miles or so out from it where the wind pattern shifts from prevailing weather to what's in his bubble.”

“So what do you recommend, Janet?”

“I recommend that we contact Cerrunos-” She paused at the puzzled look she got, and clarified, “- the Eldest - immediately. Let him know that Thor is about to arrive, and ask his advice. Give him what we know, tell him what Loki said, and see if he can do something for us. In the meantime, keep an eye on him, have the Coast Guard warn shipping away from his immediate vicinity, and put together a combat team to take him down if we have to. Trank dart snipers, mages, some heavy hitters if we have to go to close-in combat – maybe get Storm in on it if she's available, if he can actually do the lighning bolt thing she can counteract him.”

The President nodded. “All right, that sounds reasonable. Get it started.”

“What am I authorized to tell the Eldest, sir?”

“About this? Anything he needs to know. Aside from this, use your own judgement. You, of all people, should be able to tell if he can be trusted.”

Lowe gave him a lopsided grin. “He, of all people, could fool me if he wanted, sir. But I've met him, and he seems to want to help. And there was an off-hand comment that Sterling relayed to me after that meeting we had with him last March. We'd asked him about the Kraken, and Coyote muttered something about 'pity he wasn't at Eniwetok after all'. Very much under his breath, only the bat picked it up.”

“Eniwetok? What's the significance, Doctor?”

“Pacific island, one of the H-bomb test sites. When I checked into that, I discovered some oddities about how the test sites were chosen. Didn't raise any suspicions at the time, but... now I wonder if those two didn't influence the site selection somehow, hoping we could set a nuke off on the beast before he woke up. Point being, if they could do something like that, that far back, they've been helping us for generations, so I'm inclined to trust them now.”

“Trust Coyote?” The President gave her a very dubious look over that idea.

“He's trustworthy on important things, sir. Just not with one's dignity. Actually, he seems to have turned up in Ba-Yabel of all places. Ambassador Knight reported he was at the ceremony where Haroun rewarded Sergeant Foster for his help in that little terrorist rebellion they had.”

“How'd that turn out, by the way? Any followup?”

“They've rounded up nearly all of them. Haroun apparently forcibly changed the ringleaders into pigs – Changeling type, not farm animals - as a punishment, and then exiled them. Didn't win him any friends among the jihadis, but I suspect Fox News at least will have a field day with it when the news gets out. And it does seem to be a punishment that'll get their attention. The True Believers will be horrified; to them that's an -eternal- punishment. No swine in Paradise, after all. And the opportunistic ones will lose all influence if it's done to them, so they'll do their best to avoid annoying him now.”

Boehner laughed at that. “I think that just might work. I wonder if we could learn how he did it? Might be cruel and unusual punishment, though.”

Lowe shrugged. “So we have any such folks deported to the High Desert, sir. Not our problem if they break -his- laws afterwards. Or maybe to Crete, and let Circe handle it.”

“Not a bad idea.” He sighed. “And I need to get back to my schedule. Go talk to the Eldest, Doctor. Figure out what he can do about our Norse problem.”

“On it, sir.”

* * * *

The banquet hall was a long room open to the second story, with musicians arranged around the upper balcony to provide background music. Tables were arranged along the perimeter of the lower floor, and the space in the center of the room was left open for the guests to mingle before the food was served. Both ends of the room were raised a few feet, on one end to emphasize the importance of Prince Haroun and his most honored guests as they ate; at the entrance end to allow the guests to be seen as they were introduced.

The American party was announced as they arrived; about half of the guests were already present. Knight nodded as they descended the short staircase. “Mingle, and enjoy yourselves as much as you can. No matter what anyone asks, though, stay non-commital. Especially you, Sir Richard.”

Foster shook his head at that. “Of all the crazy things to do... You're sure it's all right, sir? I won't get in trouble for accepting a title?”

Knight shook his head. “You're fine, Sergeant. If they let Dwight Eisenhower run for President with a knighthood, they're not going to fuss about yours. Just remember, you're happy and honored.”

Rogers chuckled. “And thrilled?” This got a couple of odd looks. “What? Apollo 13 was in Mount Whitney's film library. Must have seen it a dozen times on that deployment.”

Rajiya clung to Foster's arm, nervous around all the high-ranking people in the room. “What if they--”

Rick shushed her. “They won't, remember? I have a feeling that Lady Noor is not someone to cross lightly. Now let's go have fun. It'll be much nicer to be a guest rather than part of the serving staff, won't it?” Rajiya nodded, and visibly gathered up her nerve as they set out to mingle.

* * * *

The Director of the National Park Service was still not quite sure why the NSA had commandeered one of the District's historic buildings, still less why they had insisted on one that had not been modernized in any way. Lowe had taken a great deal of amusement in explaining her reasons as 'because Hawai'i is too far to travel on the spur of the moment' and then amplifying it with 'and because unicorns'. What had been a slowly decaying townhouse unchanged since the Civil War was now being turned into a communications nexus for the government's dealings with the more settled Immortals.

At the moment, she was seated in a comfortable armchair and staring intently into the fire burning in the huge fireplace of the building's former parlor. The image staring back at her was, indeed, a unicorn. “We think he spent the winter in one of the Greenland fishing villages, but in any event he is now approaching one of the more densely populated areas of the country. And I very much doubt he is going to present a tourist visa upon arrival in Boston. How much credence should we place on what Loki and Fenris told us? And what is he likely to want to do here?”

Cerrunos whickered, thinking about the question. “Thor has always been impulsive. To be honest, I'm not even sure how he managed to survive his first low-magic era. He certainly has never been the type to think about such things. Loki blames him for the death of his first wife, and they've never gotten along, even before that, so he's biased. On the other hand, if the Alpha Wolf agrees with him, there may be more than bias about that... But to answer your question, Diviner, he's a rowdy. He'll pick fights, party all night, drink more than even an Immortal should be able to handle, and be ready to start all over the moment he wakes up.”

Lowe flattened her ears. “So what you're telling me, Eldest, is that we've got an Immortal frat-boy on our hands.”

“Pretty much. He's not malicious most of the time, but he's careless, touchy, and has a rather odd sense of honor. Your best bet is to warn your authorities not to confront him, keep an eye on him, and have a proper strike team in place if he gets out of hand. If you have anyone who could stand up to him in a fight, you might want to consider setting up a brawl. Let him blow off some steam.”

“That all sounds vaguely familiar, somehow...” The wolf thought about it for a minute. “Oh, no. You've just described the Hulk. Just what we needed. An Immortal from a comic book.”

“I'll send Coyote to talk to him when he gets back from Africa, Diviner. Until then, try not to antagonize him.”

* * * *

Coyote was dressed in buckskins and a feathered headband for the reception, which the French Ambassador somehow found offensive. “While it is appropriate to wear culturally significant attire to these sorts of things, Monsieur Coyote, it is still supposed to be appropriately -formal- attire. You do not do your American friends any favors by this display of poor manners.”

The canid Immortal twitched an ear. “I'm not here representing the United States, Christophe. I'm here partly to say hello to a young colleague, and partly as a representative of the Eldest of the Immortals. And it's too hot in this country for me to dress up in that full monkey suit you diplomats wear, thank you.” He sighed. “Pity Reynard didn't make it. We had a lot of fun together last cycle. He hasn't turned up, has he? About my size, red fox, fond of practical jokes? Last I heard of him, he was in Roman Aquitania, so he should've turned up in France.”

The ambassador gave him an odd look. “Reynard the Fox? We have not had any children's tales come to life in la belle France, monsieur.”

Coyote grinned. “Oh, most of Reynard's exploits weren't suitable for children's stories. Still, he might be slow waking up, or maybe he's just lying low to play a joke on someone. If he does turn up, drop me a note through the Americans. They know how to find me.”

Ambassador Bouchard sighed. “I shall pass this on to Paris, monsieur.”

* * * *

“Vladimir! It's good to see you again. Your superiors finally decided to set up an embassy here?”

“They did. And it is good to see you, James. It seems that our postings to the backside of nowhere have suddenly become good career moves.”

“That they have. It is even, in some ways, more comfortable. One does not have to depend on an erratic supply of electricity when it doesn't work at all. And I can't say I miss having Foggy Bottom second guessing everything minute by minute.”

“No? That's not the rumor I've heard, James. Something about your people watching the rebellion in real time...?”

Knight just smiled. “Rumors. They're still crazier than reality, even considering what's happened since the Event.”

The Russian ambassador nodded. “Nichyevo. So, is it going to be official American policy to meddle in African affairs now?”

Knight just smiled again. “Vladimir, it has -never- been -official- American policy to meddle anywhere. Well, outside of actual wars, I suppose.”

“And yet you do. This business of an Immortal granting a knighthood to one of your soldiers seems a bit meddlesome.”

“Not at all. The kid was caught up in the events, and simply acted to protect himself. You know how much the jihadis hate us, after all.”

Prygin snorted laughter. “The jihadis hate -everyone-, James. Including themselves, I sometimes think. Still, a knighthood? That is reactionary even by American standards. I'd have suspected the Brits of suggesting such a thing, not you.”

“Well, it might be that Haroun consulted with them. He did seem rather taken with the idea, wherever he got it from.” He pointed across the room, where the newly-minted Sir Richard was talking to one of the locals. “And you have to admit, he looks the part. Aside from the ears, of course.”

“I do not have to admit to any such thing, James. It is hard to take anyone seriously with ears like that.”

"Be careful. He can probably hear us talking."

* * * *

“Major Daoud. May I present my friend, Rajiya?”

The officer smiled at the fennec-vixen. “Pleased to meet you, my lady. Have you been to the Palace before?”

Rajiya's ears went sideways. “Err, well, yes, actually, but not...” Her explanation drifted into a quiet mumble that even Rick had trouble hearing against the background noise.

“She's on the -” Rick stopped as an elbow poked him rather emphatically in the ribs. “What?”

Their conversation was interrupted as the major-domo announced the latest arrivals. “Her Excellency the First Consort Lady Noor, Protector of Maidens, Princess of the Dragon Throne, Daughter of the Night Wind, and Beloved of His Highness, Prince Haroun; Lady Yasmin bint-Hadar.” Everyone in the room broke off to bow to the First Consort before the buzz of talk resumed.

Lady Noor made her way from the entry stairs to the fennecs. “Ah, there you are, Sir Richard. Are you and your lady enjoying things so far?”

Rajiya was too nervous to do anything but curtsey. Rick answered for them. “Very much, your Excllency. I've never seen anything like it, unless you count old movies.”

“Movies...?” The explanation took some time to finish before Major Daoud understood what this was. “Fascinating. And this is not spells?”

“No, not as such.” Rick thought about it. “Or perhaps it could be considered spells, but of the other type. Most people can activate them, but few understand how they work, at that...”

Lady Noor took charge of the conversation again. “Lady Rajiya has been in my service for years, but this is the first opportunity she has had to attend a formal reception, Major.”

“I see. In what capacity, if I may inquire?”

Lady Noor just smiled. “You know what I do for the Realm, Major. Do you really want to ask that question?”

The man paled and bowed. “I see, My Lady. I withdraw the question.” He lookd around quickly, and then bowed his apologies. “I really should catch up with Colonel Salish, milady. If you would excuse me...?”
He hurried off as soon as Noor gave him a nod.

“And that is how you do it, Rajiya. Hint, and let them assume you are one of my agents. Even if someone remembers you from a palace visit, they'll suddenly wonder if you are something more. Sir Richard, that goes for you as well. Some of the guests will be looking for a way to discredit your friend, and you do not want to give them a way to do so.”

Rick nodded. “I think I understand, your Excellency. We have that sort back in America. Even without hereditary positions, there are those who think they are important because their parents were successful.”

“It's a given in any successful society with a nobility. After a few generations, all you have is privileged brats whose only skill is bragging about their ancestry. I think it's time for a shake-up again, and you two are going to be in the thick of it, I'm afraid.”

Rick's ears went up. “Are you one of the Immortals, then?”

Lady Noor smiled at him. “Oh, very good. And the answer is... not exactly. I do not have the power on my own, but Haroun keeps me around for some reason.” She sighed. “I should go mingle, and spread the same rumors that -you- two should be, Rajiya. And if Sir Richard doesn't know what they say about me, tell him so he knows what some of the insinuations mean.” She smiled at them, and then wandered off to chat with one of the ambassadors.

“So.. what are these rumors I should know about?”

“Lady Noor is the Prince's spymaster as well as his consort, Rick. The darker rumors are that she has assassins on her staff as well as spies and courtesans and mages.”

Rick grinned. “Oh-ho. And we are the shadows of the desert, we fennecs. Think you can play ninja if anyone gets too pushy?”

“Maybe. What's a ninja?”

* * * *

“Ah, there you are, Ambassador Knight.”

“I am indeed, Lady Noor. What may I do for you? Or perhaps I should ask, what might the United States do for you?”

“I have asked Lady Fatima for her observations on the scrying systems you use, and she in turn has provided me with information gleaned from this 'internet' of yours to supplement her observations - a fascinating achievement, that, and one that I am hoping the mages can adapt for the return of magic. But there are a few things I do not understand about these 'satellites', and I was hoping that you could provide some background. You have truly set your own moons in the sky?”

Knight nodded. “Small ones, and not that far from Earth, but yes. We have even sent men to the Moon itself to explore briefly, and machines to examine the other planets. We had always thought we would go back again, but now I am not sure it is possible until we can produce the magical equivalents of rockets. Surely in all the years there has been some other civilization that has thought to investigate the universe beyond our own world?”

“Some have, Ambassador, but there is a problem. Magic depends on the Earth – on matter in general, it is thought, but still. The emptiness between even the planets, let alone the stars, has no mana to fuel the spells. We can look, but only your machines can travel there. And soon those machines will not work. I read something about a manned space station? Those people will need to be brought back before the machines die, for there is no way to get them with magic alone.”

“This is... a disturbing bit of information, milady. I shall certainly bring it to the attention of our scholars. Is there anything we can do for you?”

Noor nodded. “The Prince has told me what you have said during your discussions with him, and also what has been mentioned in talks between him and the other Immortals. The Eldest has a great deal of interest in the machines you have built, and I feel that I should learn more of this myself. Apparently you have some that are compatible with magic, and the Eldest wants to try to save this knowledge for the next part of the cycle -without- magic. Would you be able to recommend someone who could teach us of these things, perhaps in return for tutors in spellwork for your own mages?”

Knight smiled. “I suspect that such an exchange would be an excellent idea, Lady Noor. This has the Prince's approval?”

She grinned. “If it doesn't already, it will as soon as I tell him.”

* * * *

Rajiya growled softly at the sight of the latest well-wisher making her way towards her intended. Rick twitched an ear toward her. “Who's this one?”

“Countess Sahar. She inherited her title rather young, and there are some unsavory rumors about how that happened. At least she won't recognize me. She's been to the Palace almost every time there's been an event, but she ignores anyone who isn't a courtier of some kind. And everyone who -is-, she tries to either blackmail or seduce.”

The jackal swept up in a swirl of golden fur and green silk. “Sir Richard! So nice to meet you. Everyone is talking about your bravery in that terrible attack.”

“I'm sure the stories are exaggerated, Countess. I couldn't have done it alone.”

“But you provided the necessary leadership. And such an interesting idea that his Highness had to reward you.”

Foster shrugged. “It is traditional for some nations. It is not something that America does, but I do appreciate the honor.”

The countess smiled. “I'm sure you do. Perhaps... I could show you some appreciation of my own?”

Foster decided to play dumb. “That's hardly necessary, Countess. Your Prince has already given me sufficient honor for the day.”

The jackal glanced at the fuming vixen standing beside him. “Well, she's nice enough, but does she have any connections? I'm sure I could arrange something more suitable if you wished.”

Foster shook his head. “She works for Lady Noor, you know. I really don't think I can improve on that.”

Rajiya smiled – or at least showed her teeth - as the jackal actually paid attention to her for the first time. It wasn't really a very friendly smile.

The Countess was suddenly wary. “I see... perhaps some other time, then, Sir Richard. It was a pleasure to have met you.” She sauntered off, aiming at one of the other newly knighted officers.

Rajiya grinned. “Well, how about that. It -does- work.”