An Untitled Novel

“Alright, you think you can give Cicero a manual of arms here?” Basil asked, putting a random Redcap soldier on the spot. General Edwards nodded, and the soldier gave Cicero a detailed overview of the rifle before clearing, shouldering, and dry firing it. “Not fully automatic?” Cicero asked. “No” Basil replied. “Ammunition is our bottleneck so far, if the Elthrice do invade we need to make every shot count. I’ve already burnt a fake identity by purchasing bulk depleted Uranium rounds, and your soldiers haven’t been trained on full auto.” Cicero looked confused. “I’ve seen our storeroom, how is that not enough?” Edwards replied to Cicero’s question directed at Basil.

“Well, with my background in logistics, I can assure you we can always use more. Ten thousand rounds, which is our goal, may seem as if it is a lot, but you start to distribute that among our forces and we could find ourselves lacking quickly.”

Edwards seemed to have an air of pompousness when he spoke, or so Basil thought, but Cicero seemed unbothered. Perhaps Basil had misjudged the speech, or perhaps Cicero was just used to it. “Basil, before I forget, I would like to talk to you when you are done here” Cicero said, changing the topic. Basil wrapped up his work on the anti-Elthrice weapons and caught up to Cicero who was standing outside the barracks. “What’s up?”

“Captian Brayden had a request he wished for me to pass along. We had reports in the northwest, and he was hoping to request your help with transportation and potentially with an investigation.” Basil was surprised by such a request. “What’s going on?” Cicero seemed almost hesitant in his answer. “Do you believe in shape shifters?” Basil laughed. “Seriously?” But when Cicero didn’t respond Basil asked a follow up question. “Do you believe in shape shifters?”

Cicero shrugged. “I once thought I saw something during the battle of Blood Rock, but it was dark, and the state of my mind was not sound.” Cicero’s monotone voice momentarily took on an air of something Basil couldn’t place, although it felt at odds with his casual body language. When Cicero did not explain further Basil figured it was best not to prod him for more details of the events he was recollecting. “Alright, what’s going on out there?” Cicero shrugged again. “I do not know, that’s why we’re investigating. We received a letter from the local county governor requesting the Queen send forces to investigate repeated attacks on a local town. Its inhabitants swear that the attacks are the result of a shape shifter.”

Basil processed what he had heard. “Hm, well, regardless of what’s going on, it sounds like you guys need to put a stop to it. I’m sure Grey wouldn’t mind if we used the Elthrice craft to save poor Brayden a very long trek.” Cicero seemed glad. “I’m pleased to hear you’re willing to lend him a hand. I know you may be sore about what happened between you two, but he’s an honorable man who has expressed regrets for how he has interacted with you.” Basil looked confused for a moment before realizing what Cicero was referring to.

“Hey, if you’re talking about the stuff at the festival, that’s all water under the bridge. Tons of shit went down those days, and I gotta say that Brayden was one of the most respectful guys I’ve ever pissed off.” Cicero seemed amused at Basil’s wording. “Good, well, I will pass that along.” Cicero went to turn away, but suddenly spun on his heels as if he had just recognized something from the previous conversation.

“You said Grey would probably be okay with us using the craft. Did you give the craft to her?” Cicero’s usual monotone voice changed again, though it almost sounded nervous this time. Basil shrugged. “Well, I offered it to her thinking she would want to leave, but she turned me down and plans to stay here. She’s still living in its quarters, though, so I’m not sure if I should treat it as mine or hers.” Cicero didn’t say anything for a moment, but had an almost horrified look on his face. Eventually he seemed to settle on a set of words.

“You were going to give away our one leg up against the Elthrice!?” Basil wasn’t quite sure how to respond, but in his hesitancy Cicero spoke again in a less harsh tone. “Basil, I can respect your intentions to not keep the Elthrice trapped, but please remember that an entire realm is at stake here if Elthrice were to attack.” When the two fell silent again Cicero finally said a short goodbye and Basil left to prepare for the trip.

Almost immediately, Basil reached out to Spiro to ask what he thought about the idea of shape shifters. If anybody were to have the truth of the matter it would have to be him. “How exactly are you connected to this again?” Spiro asked after somebody had finally agreed to find him and put him on the radio Basil had reached. “Same as I told the lady who answered it originally, it’s just a radio. I’m broadcasting a signal to it and thanks to magic wobbly electrons in an antenna you’re hearing me.” Spiro sighed and paused for a moment. “Yeah, but you’re not supposed to be able to connect to this one. Walk me through exactly how we’re talking right now.”

“Well, I sent up a drone high enough to get a good signal to Amigoso and scanned for frequencies. I found the lower bands that seemed to be for your Ministry, and I already have access to the one at Arkepello so I know how your messages are encoded. ACE found this one, the one where everybody off the island is reaching out to the Ministry, so that’s where I figured I should try to reach you.” Spiro sounded amused, annoyed, and a little defeated. “So you’re in all of them?” Basil nodded before remembering he was talking into a cell phone. “Yeah, they’re just radio signals.”

“Well, you just turned today into a very bad day for our communication guys.” Spiro chuckled as if he had finally decided to find this situation amusing. “So, what was your question that accidentally embarrassed our entire intelligence network?” Basil went on to explain his conversation with Cicero, and when he asked Spiro about shape shifters his answer was only a laugh. Spiro seemed certain it was only paranoia, and after Basil cracked a joke about the Salem witch trials their conversation became an impromptu history lesson. Basil next brought the topic up with Grey, thinking if anybody knew anything about genetic engineering or biological anomalies, it would be her. She was unfamiliar with the subject, even on a mythological basis, but was very interested in attending the investigation. If nothing else, to learn more about the less technologically adept side of her ancestry.

Soon enough Basil, Grey, Brayden, and a handful of Redcap Capital Police were loaded onto the Elthrice craft. “We’re here” ACE said over the intercom only a dozen seconds after closing the door, prompting some surprise and amusement from the first time passengers. Brayden looked particularly amazed. “I know Cicero said it was like this, but damn, I expected he was exaggerating at least a little.”

The investigation itself began, which was well outside Basil’s wheelhouse, but from what he could tell somebody had very much been attacking animals and occasionally people. Brayden went on to explain to the group that he believed the attacks were due to either a disturbed or insane person, possibly wearing some form of animal skin. Based on the location of the attacks, he had determined the likely area the perpetrator was hiding in, and the crew set off to determine if Brayden’s efforts had paid off.

Basil started noticing the change in scenery as the group left the town. Where the Redcap’s eastern portion mainly consisted of forested hills and plains, their western portion seemed much more wet and dense with foliage, to the point where it almost started to resemble a temperate rainforest. Regardless of foliage, however, the group trekked on and made their way in the direction of the location where their killer was most likely to be.

“We got something here” one of the Royal Policeman shouted, adding “Shit, looks like some of it’s human” as the group approached. Everyone gathered around, seeing a pile of bones and rotting meat in a clearing by several boulders. Just as Brayden began to tell everyone to keep an eye out for something returning, they heard rustling in the bushes. A crazed looking man with unkept hair stepped out, walking erratically.

Several of the police force backed away slightly and raised their weapons. Basil followed suit and raised his Mossberg as Brayden gave a command from behind his pistol. “In the name of the Queen, I am placing you-”

Basil blinked.

He was suddenly lost in thought. The person, or the thing, was different now. It wasn’t some giant hairy beast like in European mythology, or at least modern media’s take on it, but it was different. It was mangy, and oddly uncanny. Had it not been for the effect of the (object), he expected he would have been in some state of fear or dread, although he wasn’t quite sure what he felt outside of curiosity. He heard the distinctive “pop” of small arms fire, although it sounded distant and distorted. He turned to see the Redcaps firing on the person or creature, although it remained upright and moving.

He turned back to see something flying towards him. Right, there was a thing there, whatever it was. It struck Basil with an unexpected strength, knocking him off his feet and into the large rock that was previously several feet behind him. Right, durability didn’t mean the end of Newtonian physics. He hit the ground, again unsure what he was feeling. There was no pain, and he was fairly confident he wasn’t hurt; the lack of pain seemingly the result of the (object) rather than adrenalin. No, he was annoyed. Perhaps even insulted. This thing, whatever it was, had the nerve to attack him. He, who held an (object). He looked over again, Brayden was firing an Amigosian revolver, but seemed to be moving very slowly. Hmm, no, Brayden wasn’t moving slow, he was thinking fast. That was weird, though like a lot of strange occurrences he’d experienced, he figured the (object) was to blame. Huh, perhaps if he could find a way to trigger this state of mind it’d be a really efficient means of performing anything that required high mental bandwidth.

Grey started moving, only now reacting to Basil getting hit. Woah, he was thinking fast. She was stepping in between himself and the person or creature, shouting something in Elthrice that sounded too distant to make out, regardless of whether he understood the language. The thing started moving back, getting its first lesson in dealing with the Elthrice: “Don’t fuck with Orbitals.” Basil stood up, surprised that his movement only felt somewhat slow, while the rest of the world felt considerably slow. The creature seemed to have begun regaining its confidence and Basil picked up his pace. He’d give it props; staring down an angry Orbital and retaining confidence was not an easy feat. He placed his left arm on Grey’s as he walked by to signal her to stay back a few paces.

Her face, however, looked as if he had electrocuted her upon contact. Maybe it had something to do with the (object) or his newfound speed. He internally shrugged and gave her a quick smile as if a casual greeting, but she didn’t react, and he realized it was probably too fast of an expression for somebody to register. Odd, his newfound speed was wearing off. Time to act.

The shotgun’s recoil was almost nonexistent and it sounded muffled. He partially missed his target, hitting upper right shoulder as much as the chest he was aiming at, but the thing fell to the ground all the same. It reached out its left arm as if to claw at him, but he shouldered the weapon again and fired at its head - which became a mist of gore almost instantaneously. The residual slowness stopped, and Basil suddenly felt tired.

“What. The. Fuck. Was. That?” he said; part question, part exclamation.