29

Sal hunkered down behind a concrete barrier with his hands over his head. He felt the familiar sizzling energy grip the air. He knew the other citizens of Undertown were similarly crouched behind emplacements. He thought back to his conversation with Prilock--what he intended to set his mind to do in mere moments. Since that first time three weeks ago that the air had crackled over his head, he had been unable to make it back to the Rogue's house. What's more, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to anymore. Sal had become invested in this war--but particularly in Prilock.

After the first wave of energy had rippled overhead, Prilock had nearly dragged Sal into safety as Sal's feet and mind were no longer working in tandem. In the distance, Sal could just barely hear a sustained low hum--rather like chanting. Not long after that, the red-hot energy would pass through the air. Sal hadn't a clue as to what the hell was going on, but he had managed to figure out bits and pieces from the orders Prilock had shouted as they moved into cover.

The attackers were using what Prilock was calling a Psionic Storm. By joining all their minds on certain frequencies with specific intent it was possible to manipulate the holographic reality. It was crude by Sal's standards, but effective and deadly.

Sal had never broached the black art that was deception to cause actual harm. His job had never been to directly KILL someone else. Perhaps his work might be used to achieve such an end, but he had always drawn the line at any job that necessitated that he use his skills to directly kill people. These attackers, whoever they were, were not honoring any such ethical allegiance. What was needed were defenses, quick.

Prilock had wasted no time in organizing the Undertown members into some hologram-bending once everyone had assembled in the square between bouts of energy surges. Most everyone there had arrived on their bellies. It was fortunate that the attackers had not chosen that moment to invade. Likely, they figured the quiet through Undertown was one of preparedness as opposed to the anarchy it was.

The way the Undertown citizens were organized defensively by Prilock was interesting to Sal. he subdivided a block of members into the center of the community and gave them orders to commence chanting. As the Undertown members began to chant, they formed a shield barrier around their community. Once the center was secured, Prilock would post other chanters near the edges in an effort to blanket the town with the protective barrier. With attackers and defenders manipulating the hologram in their respective ways, a standstill was reached. What was a test of strategy quickly became one of endurance and attrition. The battle would likely be decided by who gave out first.

Sal had thought of making a run for it in those early days. After all, he knew how the history of Undertown was going to turn out, and his actions would not make much if any difference. Unfortunately, a splinter cell of attackers had cut off contact to the path needed to reach the Rogue's house. Though the group was not formidable in size, the constant barrage of attacks combined with the waxing and waning of the shield barrier made Sal think better than tot take on the entire group at once.

The only other option was slipstream travel. Matters were already strange enough without invoking a travel method that was unpredictable and fickle in his own time period. Sal wasn't about to attempt to navigate in an unfamiliar slip-stream situation. For all he knew, he was already in a parallel universe.

Sal found himself in the unenviable position of being stuck outside of his time period in a pincer attack in what he knew was one of the highest casualty areas of this particular Runic War. Additionally, he wasn't sure how much action to take because of the risk of creating a parallel universe. The last concern plagued him until about week two of being stuck where he was when some part of him unceremoniously decided that he really didn't give a fuck if he messed up all of history. Prilock hadn't really talked much to him since the ordeal began, as he seemed to to constantly organizing and rotating members out to give the chanters a break. Priolock was evidently some commander or community leader. Sal decided between volleys to make his way to Prilock and get some answers.

Sal waved to Prilock as he approached behind a block of chanters. It was eerie to walk by a group of people so focused on one task. It was like watching an ant colony--each person played his part seemingly without the knowledge of the other. Sal studied their faces. Most of them were sweating. It didn't seem like saying words should be a process that caused sweating, but Sal reasoned that maybe it was a combination of the concentration required and the stress. Perhaps many of these people had never been under attack. Sal would have watched them for longer, but his peripheral vision caught sight of Prilock who waved back in greeting.

"Hey Prilock, you know, after two weeks, I figured I'd better ask you who these attackers are."

Prilock looked at him with what could best be described as bitter amusement. Then he answered. "So you are telling me you don't know the Metheons?"

Sal searched his memory. He did recall the Metheons. In his time, they were described as a nomadic group of people who had attacked Undertown. There were, of course, no mentions of chanting and electrical air currents.

"You mean to tell me these guys out here attacking are Metheons?" asked Sal inquisitively.

"None other than," replied Prilock.

"What's the deal with your community members? Why are they all so strained-looking?"

"Undertown wanted to remain neutral. Part of the reason we wished to remain so is that most of us have never seen any combat. Not only that, but this psi barrier requires a lot of energy to generate."

"Just sounds like a bunch of words being tossed out to me," replied Sal.

"That doesn't really do it justice. Have you ever tried to clear out your mind and think only of one thing for say, thirty seconds? If you have tried it, then you know that the mind is difficult to discipline. It wants to wander, and if it doesn't get to wander it often throws a tantrum. What these people are doing is maintaining a level of concentration while at the same time trying not to let fear interfere with their concentration, which they surely have. In addition to that, they have to maintain concentration at a certain level of strength to keep the shield up and balanced against incoming attacks. If an attack comes in that the shield does not hold then the attack will likely be successful and result in the death of many of the people here."

"What do you have by way of defenses other than this shield you are generating?" asked Sal.

"Nothing," answered Prilock.

"Don't you at least have some counter-attack chant or something?"

"No," began Prilock. "We were hoping to remain neutral during this conflict. It is our opinion if we hold this shield eventually the attackers will grow tired and leave. We needn't harm them."

"Have you ever seen combat, Prilock?"

"Yes, I have."

"Then you should know that holding up this shield is not going to result in tiring them out and having them politely ask to be excused."

"It might," said Prilock.

Sal sighed. "No wonder you people came up with Iron Bastion," he muttered.

"Iron Wha?" asked Prilock.

"Never mind," said Sal. "Would it change your mind if I told you that I knew these attackers would not leave even if you held this shield for a thousand years, and that in fact, if you continue to hold it your entire town will be mostly slaughtered within the next week and a half?"

Prilock appeared to deliberate the question thoughtfully. "I would say there is no way you would be able to know such a thing, but for some reason, if you were to say it I would be inclined to believe you."

Their conversation was interrupted as incoming electricity slammed against the shield. It was rather beautiful in a deadly way. As the incoming energy hit the shield, it would create a rainbow of hues as the shield resisted that which was thrown at it. If one looked closely enough, however, one could clearly see that some of the energy from the attack leaked through. A small finger of electrical energy might eek its way through the shield. Fortunately, the shield held the majority of the charge out, so that that which did make it through was so weakened by the time it penetrated the defense that it merely played a few inches under the dome of the defense. After the incoming barrage wore itself out, Sal resumed his conversation with Prilock.

"What the hell do these guys want anyway?" asked Sal.

"Pretty much what attackers always want. To conquer. We are just in the way," answered Prilock.

"What if I told you I could help you in ways you might find hard to imagine?" asked Sal.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Prilock.

"I mean what if I could get these guys to leave and inflict some casualties while doing so?"

"How would you do that?"

"That I can't tell you, but what if I could?" asked Sal pointedly.

"What IS it you intend to do exactly?" Prilock asked once again.

"You will just have to see it for yourself. if I told you, it would be no more astonishing than my knife was."

Prilock nodded his head in agreement, then added, "You know, if I were good at deception, I can think of a few techniques I could employ to mislead the enemy. Pity I don't have the resources."

Sal's eyes widened. "Interestingly, I was thinking the same thing, except I have resources."

With that, Sal turned and walked away before another volley struck the barrier. This time, the incoming energy sizzled around like a fiery wheel as it tried to chew its way through the barrier. After the attack lost a lot of its initial energy, it faded into lightning that danced once more ever so slightly under the barrier. It was then that Sal was struck with another bit of inspiration, and he reversed direction back to Prilock.

"Have you got some other miracle to work that I need to know about?" Prilock asked dryly.

"Yeah, it's about psionic energy, actually. Does it behave like normal electricity, like lightning?"

"Sort of," replied Prilock. "It is more metaphysical than lightning. Lightning would exist even if no one was around to chant about it and make it happen. This energy is more subtle--it wouldn't really exist in the form it does if people were not here to shape it."

"Well, okay," began Sal, "But can it be stored? You know, sorta like a battery?"

"I'm not sure," Prilock answered thoughtfully while rubbing his hand against his head. "I suppose it could be."

Sal's gaze wandered about the town. "Do you have any really tall pieces of metal? Like a pole or girder or something?"

Prilock frowned. "How big are we talking?"

"About as big as the barrier you are generating in height."

"No," Prolock said as he shook his head.

"Okay, do you have anything we can lash together that is about that height?"

"Yeah," Prilock replied after waiting some time for consideration. "Yeah, I think we do. Some of the houses around here lose their roofing tiles every so often. Instead of getting on ladders, a lot of people fashion what we call a "tile hook". A tile hook is just a long metal rod designed to be used from the ground to move or replace the roof tile. I'm sure we could find enough of them to span that height, but they will be crude and ugly."

"Crude and ugly is better off than beautiful but useless," replied Sal. "Much better than being dead. Do you have any men you can spare to fetch a few along with something to lash them together?"

"I've got a few men on their rest break. I'm sure I could ask them to get what you ask. The first priority, though, is this barrier. Is this idea of yours going to help it somehow?"

"It ought to," replied Sal.

"In that case I'll get them," said Prilock as he turned to a short man who was not chanting. "Go get as many tile hooks as you can carry. If you see anyone who is off duty who is awake, ask them to help you bring some back. We need enough to reach about the top of our shield." The man sprinted off with an invigorated sense of purpose.

Prilock turned back to Sal. "So what are you hoping to do with these tile hooks anyway?"

Sal eyed the top of the barrier. With his chin angled upwards, one might have momentarily confused him for someone heroic. "We are going to build a lightning rod."

Prilock rubbed his fingers against the side of his cheek. "Then what?"

"Then maybe, if we are lucky, we can channel the energy that goes into the rod into the barrier. Instead of using your people and wearing them out, we can use some of the Metheon energy against themselves.

Prilock let a slight smirk cross his lips. "Think it'll work?"

"All I know is that it won't hurt to try."

The short man showed up with the rods and behind him ambled a few other villages that Sal recognized had been chanting earlier in the day. The short man dropped his load of rods, and then motioned to the other men to do the same. One of them was carrying what appeared to be some kind of steel rope or twine. Sal inferred that this must be what they had for the purpose of lashing the rods together.

"This is it," the short man said after the final villager dumped his load of items next to the rods.

"Good," said Sal. "Let's start lashing these things together."

After several volleys of electrical discharge, the men had a crudely lashed lightning rod. It wasn't the prettiest rod ever made, because the ends of the rods made it look as though the thing out to be climbed--especially since the next rod started where the last bent into a hook. Sal had wondered whether or not these additional bends would cause a loss of electrical charge. Yet, even if the rod only dissipated some of the energy, that was better than the chanters having to maintain it.

Once the rod was done, it was time to dig the hole for it. The men pitched in and were finished in no time at all. The next part, though, was the dangerous part.

Getting the pole into position would require a delicate sense of timing. If the idea didn't work, then the people putting the pole up had nothing to worry about. On the other hand, if it did work, those who had the pole in their hands had to face the very real possibility of electrocution. If electrocution was avoided, then what had to be taken into account was the heating of the pole by the current running through it. A severe burn might not be as deadly, but nobody would benefit from one.

Sal and the men listened carefully to the chanting. It would build as was its habit then dissipate. They waited for the current round of chanting to cease, and the men including Sal hoisted the pole into place, and made sure the end was planted firmly in the ground. They finished this task just in time because as soon as the end had been placed in the hole another volley hit. To Sal's delight, the pole turned a low shade of red, and one could see what looked like electricity moving around it to the bottom. The theory was sound. It appeared that psionic energy shared some properties of electricity. Sal thought back to his time period and how people found hacks for the holonosphere--where the holonosphere bent reality just enough that physical reality allowed for the change. You never fully knew what the bounds were of what you could get away with, and this would have been another example. Sal didn't want to waste much more time thinking of his time period though. It was time to try to "charge the barrier" with the pole, and that required fast moving.

At the same time the men had dug a hole, they had used much of the metal twine to form what amounted to a braided rope--only of metal. There were several spokes of these braids that attached to a circular hub that was approximately the size of the pole. The hub was designed to be unfastened and refastened around the pole, while the spokes were made long enough to be placed near the ends of the barrier. Hopefully, the incoming energy would travel down the pole, down the spokes, and into the barrier. Attaching this piece was another matter of quickness. The men timed it out, and ran the metal hub around the pole. Slightly after the hub was around the pole, another round of attack struck, and one of the men was standing closer to a nearby spoke than he should have been. As the energy moved down the pole, it also moved down the spokes. The man who stood too near the spoke was knocked down. He began to cry out as the energy moved across his body in the same way. Nobody could help him, however, until the charge made it to the end of the spokes.

When the charge made it to the end of the spokes, something unexpected happened. Instead of simply boosting the shield, the energy actually electrified it instead. Sal and Prilock were more interested in whether this made chanting easier or harder as opposed to the benefits of it being electrified. The chanters reported that it was somewhat easier, but maybe only by a factor of around ten percent. Sal was disheartened by this result, but still, ten percent was more than they had before he had concocted his strange idea. If this was to become a battle of attrition, then ten percent might just be enough to keep them all alive for a little longer.

Sal wasn't betting on that though, and per the conversation he had with Prilock before, he had something else up his sleeve.