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from his thin lips was a
spouting of superstition. Trying hard not to smile, he commented, "The fog
bank is probably due to mind muties, false perceptions implanted in your
sailors. The
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selkies are other muties, genetically adapted to live in the water."
"Do you think I could not come up with those selfsame inane explanations?"
Strongbow's tone was charged with angry frustration. "You know nothing of the
creatures who dwell on that damn island!"
"Tell us, then," Brigid urged quietly.
Strongbow took a deep, calming breath. "Thousands of years ago, a nonhuman
race settled in Ireland.
They've had many names over the course of the centuries the Sidhe, the Gentry,
the Tuatha De
Danaan. They came from outside our narrow concepts of space and time, in great
numbers and with unknown powers. Their are ethnic legends filled with stories
of beings who made themselves known and felt and then vanished. But the Danaan
did not disappear. They were only displaced from their position of supremacy.
They did not flee, but merely hid. After the nukecaust, they returned to claim
the island.
Since then, they haven't gone beyond their borders, but they ruthlessly
destroy all human vessels venturing inside. About eighty-five years ago,
General Graham Adams, Taylor Henstell and a privateer named Johnson set sail
with a great fleet to recover Ireland. Not one ship, not one man returned.
Until I
established the Imperium, all of England shunned the whole Irish Sea as a
region accursed."
Strongbow's face twisted. "There was even a sailor's legend that the souls of
drowned Englishmen went to Ireland, to be tortured by the Sidhe for all
eternity."
"That you find a superstition, I hope," said Grant mildly.
Strongbow gave him a cold look. "Don't patronize me. You are in my service. I
am evoking the old treaty of cooperation between the British Empire and the
JAMES AXLER
United States of America. I expect no, demand
the same obedience you would give to your baron."
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Kane quashed the sudden surge of anger. "Why do you want to invade Ireland at
all?"
"Because power over the Tuatha De Danaan is only a preliminary step to
something far beyond your understanding, a component of a plan stretching back
many centuries."
"Who runs things over there?" Brigid asked.
"I have only rumors, pieced together from captured spies. A Danaan sorceress
called Fand. The Irish believe she is a goddess, and she exploits that to the
fullest. But she is mortal, born of a human mother.
She can die."
Kane stiffened with a sudden suspicion. "So what do you want from us?"
"The Celtic people have rallied around her, even those who still live in
secret here in the Imperium. Kill
her, and they will lose faith in their ancient belief of guardians from a
world invisible."
"If you and your fleet couldn't make a beachhead," said Grant, "I doubt that
the four of us could."
Strongbow tapped his temple with a long forefinger. "Belief is their strongest
weapon. My soldiers, as tightly disciplined as they are, have been weaned on
folk tales about the demon-infested isle of Erin.
Even the few pockets of Celts existing here are the source of fables. None of
you have been exposed to that kind of generational, archetypal conditioning.
Morrigan reported to me that you were all excellently trained and accustomed
to completing hazardous missions, regardless of the cost."
Brigid fixed her penetrating emerald gaze on the mirrored lenses of the man's
glasses. "And did Morrigan
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happen to mention why we have been dispatched to
Ireland?"
"Of course. Otherwise, I would have had all of you executed. You are members
of the Trust, a select, baron-approved task force. Your overall mission is to
seek out and seal naturally occurring quantum interphase points before they
can be used against the Archon Directorate."
Chapter 15
Strongbow's burst of laughter didn't warm the blood. It was like the rustle of
parchment against dry bones.
"Don't look so astonished. Do you think I could have achieved what I have
without the help of the
Directorate in some fashion?"
Kane realized that with the exception of Domi, his wide-eyed, startled
expression was duplicated on the faces of his friends. With effort, he
smoothed it away. "Forgive us, sir. In the baronies, knowledge of the
Directorate is restricted to such a small few, it didn't occur to us that you
might have been briefed."
Strongbow gave a snort of derision. "I was briefed long before any of you were
born. I dare say I know more about the Archons and their true history than
most of your barons."
The hard note of conviction in the man's voice made doubting his words a
distant option. Kane knew
Lord Strongbow wasn't simply a territory-grabbing opportunist with dreams of
empire, but beyond what
Kane had already seen of the man, he was an unknown quantity. A chill of fear
spread at the base of
Kane's spine.
Strongbow turned away and marched back to the touring car, where Gait stood
waiting beside the open rear door.
The drive back to the ministry building was surprisingly short. Gait had
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evidently followed the scenic route
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on their way to the waterfront area. When the touring car parked before the
entrance, Strongbow said, "Matters of government will occupy me for the rest
of the day. Lieutenant Gait will show you to your quarters. Later I will make
myself available for your briefing."
The four of them followed Gait through the entrance hall. Kane considered
questioning him on a few details, but knew he wouldn't receive satisfactory
answers.
They proceeded into a big, high-ceilinged Victorian common room, cozy with
overstuffed leather furniture, polished oak tables and tall, crowded
bookshelves. A bay window at the far end looked out over a garden. It was
barred on the outside. Four doorways lined the facing walls.
Gait said, "You may choose your own bedrooms. The loo is down the hall, to
your left. Any questions?"
"Yes," said Grant. "What's a loo?"
"I believe you Yanks call it a bathroom." With that, he backstepped out and
closed the door behind him.
Kane waited for the click of a lock, but it never came. He heard only Gait's
measured footfalls receding down the corridor.
Domi flopped into an armchair and bounced on it, saying, "This place is
niiiice."
Kane almost shushed her into silence, but decided to let her babble, if that
was what she wanted. Both he and Grant searched the corners and light fixtures
for miniature spy-eyes or sound pickups. They found nothing, but that didn't
mean they weren't there.
They inspected the bedrooms, which all featured hard mattresses and canopies.
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