Serial
127: Radio report
July 10th, 48 S.D. 10:12 Zelhat, Central Plains
“Thanks for waiting, everyone, We now return to our scheduled programming. I’m Gregory Holtz.”
“And I’m Samantha Watkins.”
“Today on the Global Gandian, we’re reporting on a shocking series of developing events from Felbany.”
“That’s right Greg. The Chancellor of Felbany has declared martial law after the capital was roiled by a brazen separatist attack. Three members of the Royal Family are confirmed dead, although officials will not release any names. Two are said to have been wounded.”
“An understandable move by the government, after a vicious act of terrorism. If, as many fear, Prince Friedrich is among the deceased, the country would indeed have to rely on its parliament rather than the monarchy. As our listeners probably know, Felbany transitioned away from royal control after the Great War 20 years ago, however, the fledgling republic has never really found its footing.”
“Many believe that that the Felbany parliament is yet ill-equipped to run the nation. Despite the late King Franz III’s decision to gradually cede more power to the people in the war’s aftermath, many within Felbany cherish and support the monarchy’s previous role.”
“All except the Duvian separatists, whose people for centuries have suffered at the hands of the Felbany monarchy. Details are sparse at the moment, and we are still trying to reach our journalists on the ground. We’ll be closely watching the situation for any new information. In the meantime, we can tell you folks that no clear separatist group has been linked to the attacks just yet. There are, after all, numerous underground Duvian fighters. We expect Felbany is raiding several cells as we speak. On that note, Sam, I believe you have some details from abroad?”
“Yes, the Kingdom of Senada has officially expressed its condolences to Felbany in a statement released hours ago this morning. Although unsigned by King Senada Ferdinand XI, we can assume these are his words rather than the government’s. Senada and Felbany have shared extremely close relations over the past two generations. The Felbany Royal Family even has a summer vacation home in Senada. However, Senada has a particular interest in these events. It is no secret Senada fears this could spread more anti-monarchy sentiments.”
“Quite true. All across Gandia, anti-royalism has taken root in the post Great War world. Plenty of people blame the royals of many countries for dragging this entire side of the Continent to total, brutal war. Digressing, in other news, many economists foresee troubling times ahead as trade inside Gandia stagnates.”
“Experts from the Lintin Foundation in Alta say that while the years following the Great War saw a reconstruction effort buoyed by immigration, the benefits of that population surge is waning. The markets have been propped up by internal demand, but only shakily. Eventually, many expect that to evaporate. Foreign trade with the Central Plains remains miniscule at best, and the situation doesn’t look as if it will improve any time soon. Any major trade with the Upper and Lower Vestels results in a deficit on the Gandian side due to high transportation costs.”
“I’ll tell you, Sam, I don’t particularly like the sound of that. As the Lintin Foundation goes on to elaborate, this could easily lead many in Gandia to see inflation rates climb faster than normal, decreasing the average consumer’s buying power. It could be a very serious blow, given that most economists believe we still haven’t fully recovered from the war. Now would be a wise time to invest in safe commodities, they say, constants that generally withstand turbulence such as gold, silver, or other valued metals.”
“Before we take another brief word from our sponsors, we’ll talk shortly about the new Model Versa from Comcar Automotive. Representatives are hailing it as a breakthrough in automobile technology, an amazing six-seater, the first of its kind. Powered by just as many cylinders, the Versa looks to make cars more appealing to larger families. Thanks to outstanding engineering, the Versa will only consume slightly larger amounts of petrol than smaller cars from the company. When we come back, we’ll talk about some of the other features, including a price that’s almost too good to be true.”
“Also coming up on the top half of the hour is a preview of GV1’s latest radio drama, ‘A Summer for Love’, based on the best selling novel by Alfred Einrich. Be prepared to hear all the twists and turns of the rich as they pursue love, ambition, and wealth. As a bonus, we’ll also talk about Einrich’s upcoming book, ‘The House of Daubus’. Don’t touch that dial folks, we’ll be right back on K105.”
Losha scaled the volume down on her radio until it clicked mute.
“Interesting,” she said. She was sitting down in thick, verdant grass. Wild and untamed, the field surrounded her completely, standing taller than her head.
“So, what do you think?” Faima asked, sitting across from her.
“It is... strange, I suppose. When Brigitte told me about these ‘radio shows’, I had no idea what to expect. I am still getting used to hearing voices that are technically on the other end of the Continent.”
“Sa, I agree,” Faima said. “Guess it does help the time go by though. Especially since we are doing nothing at the moment.”
“I admit, I had no clue what has been going on over in Gandia. Sounds like they have plenty of problems of their own.”
“Heh, too true. It is not like they care about what happens here. To them, the Central Plains is a different world. Most Gandians to the east do not even spare a second thought for these lands. It may disappoint you to know, but many over there actually look down on Astens. Like somehow Gandian cultures are superior. I mean, it does not help that everyone on the plains are always fighting. It reinforces the stereotype that people here are nothing more than uncivilized, backwards, violent fools.”
“That only describes certain elements in the Central Plains. Only some are prone to violence.”
“Hey, what gives with that look?” Faima demanded as Losha eyed her. “I am not like that anymore!”
“Well, you definitely used to be,” the Wolf laughed.
“Ksh... I had to be... this world is not an easy place.”
“You lived in Gandia, Varland specifically, sa? How is that country compared to here?”
“Boring as f**k. One of the many reasons I left.”
“Just curious. I suppose those of us in the Central Plains never give Gandia a second thought either. It is almost like the two scarcely exist in the mind of the other. Eventually, that will have to change, I suppose. Serialization is not just for Aste, but for all. In due course, we must spread it to them.”
“One step at a time, Losh,” Faima nodded. “We still have a lot of things to do in the here and now.”
“Hmm... How right you are, my friend. Fortunately, things look to be getting busier on our end.”
“Sa?” Faima tilted her head. “What is it?”
“I got a hit, faint frequencies to the west.”
“Shrieks, they must be far out. I cannot even detect them.”
“I have been tracking them for a few minutes already,” Losha explained as she stood up. “But that is not what gets my attention.”
“If that does not, then what does?” Faima wondered as she came to her feet as well. Losha turned around in the waist-high grass, sweeping her sight across the horizon. Suddenly, as if locking onto something, she stopped.
“23.8 kilometers north is another group, moving south. By my calculations, they will intercept the group from the west. The first ones I observed are obviously the Prevati; we have been monitoring this entire section of the Zelhat border all day. Who else would come from the west through this rather remote route? But those ones from the north... I do not know about them.”
“Bad feeling, Wolf?”
“When I get bad feelings, they are usually pretty accurate at pinpointing trouble. I always let you know my bad feelings. This... is ‘up in the air’ as they say in Gandian. It could be coincidence, other travelers out on the plains. Maybe the Zelhat decided Prevati could use an escort. I cannot say for certain. What I do know is that we should start tailing the Prevati. We still need to stop them from reaching Vedniv, and have to find out where the meeting will be held. Come on, I want to catch up to the Prevati before that other group crosses paths with them.”
The two serialists quickly readied themselves before taking off. Bright light flared beneath their feet as they leaped away with speed-steps. In a mere matter of moments, they were racing over the plains. Each foot they planted expelled a burst of kinetic energy, pushing them forward at a rate far above human limitations. They practically sailed above the ground for meters with every movement. To Losha and Faima, however, it was little different from running normally, except for the rush.
Less than half an hour later, the pair had come within several hundred meters of the Prevati. They stopped speed-stepping and crouched as they approached. The growth of the plains hid their profiles away from onlookers; their targets seemed unaware of WOLFPACK’s proximity. So far so good. Losha turned the dial on her radio and called back to Talostol.
“This is the Wolf. Faima and I are in position near the Prevati’s delegation.” After a brief delay, Denze answered her through the bits of crackling static.
“Great work. Any visual confirmation that it is indeed the Prevati?”
“Faima?”
“On it,” Faima said as she pulled up binoculars. She checked the sun to see if the lenses might flash, but currently they were under cloud cover; the shadow of the sky fell upon them. Faima came up, just enough to peek over the grass. With only a few adjustments, she focused on them. In her circular scopes, she found a single carriage strolling along, flanked by two men on horseback.
“Got a solid identification. Prevati for sure. Their emblem is shrieking plastered all over their transport.”
“You hear that, Denze?” Losha asked. “Definitely them.”
“Not a big convoy...” Faima said.
“Makes sense to keep it light,” Denze reasoned. “No need to draw everyone’s attention.”
“Well,” Losha sighed. “Looks like they got someone’s attention.”
“What do you mean?”
“Another group, a larger one, is moving towards them. We do not know who they are. Smells suspect. They somehow are going to cut right in front of them in another two kilometers or so. The Prevati are on an established road, a dirt path that has been cleared, but not this group. They seem to be making their own way across the plains. And it looks like they intend to cross paths on purpose.”
“It could be something Prevati expects. Guards from Zelhat maybe?”
“We are about to find out. We will call later with an update.”
“Alright. Proceed with caution, you two,” Denze said as he went into radio silence. Losha and Faima scurried through the grass, moving ahead of the Prevati. At a certain point in the road, the unknown party would come, so the women settled down there. Losha wanted to see who they were and what exactly their intentions held. After a short wait, eight armed soldiers on horseback came to the spot, halting on the road. They all dismounted and turned westward. So, they were expecting the Prevati after all... From the photos Denze had shown her in his briefing files, their uniforms seemed to be from Zelhat. Even so, Losha couldn’t shake a fundamental sense of suspicion. For the present, however, all they could do was wait and watch.
The soldiers said nothing to each other as they shifted idly back and forth. Eventually, the Prevati came near. One of the soldiers raised an arm and waved at them.
“Sa!” he called out. “Over here. We were waiting for you.”
The two drivers in the carriage’s front examined the men before coming to a slow stop.
“You know all about us, sa?” one driver asked. “You know we are going to see your Prime Lead Vedniv?”
“Of course we know,” the soldier who had flagged them said. “Ver Vedniv gave us specific instructions about you, the Prevati. We will be your escort into Zelhat’s interior,” he smiled good-naturedly as he walked up to the carriage.
“I should hope we come across no trouble.”
“Please, be at ease, my guest. This is simply a friendly formality, a show of respect for your coming. We sincerely doubt that our enemies would be foolish enough to try something on our own territory.”
“Very well then. In that case, we appreciate this gesture, Ver... What did you say your name was? I see you are a Field Lead.”
“Ah, sa, allow me to introduce myself. They call me Sarki Lobul,” he grinned as he drew a pistol from his side holster. “And I will be the death of you.”
Fractions of a second later, he pulled the trigger, firing off a single, loud burst of noise. As the crack of the gun pierced the otherwise silent domain of the plains, something odd happened. At the very instant the hammer had smashed down, at the very moment the powder ignited, a blur streaked out from the grass, shooting straight towards the soldier. It struck him, tearing him away like a bolting gust. Something tackled him, stole him across the road and into the opposite side of the tall grass. The bullet flew off somewhere into the air as the would-be assassin vanished into the grass. The horses reared up in panic and would have dashed off were the carriage’s brakes not in place. Bewildered, flinching at the sound of the gunfire, the drivers cursed and scrambled down.
“Shrieks! Shrieks!” one cried as they dove to different sides.
“S**t! They are Lobul! Those b******s are going to kill us!”
“Hey! Hey! You cannot leave us!” the other yelled as he saw the two on horseback turning and fleeing. Instead of helping the rest of the delegation, they simply looked back as they abandoned their own and raced away. “What the hell?!”
Inside the carriage, the occupants shouted and jostled. One of the doors swung open as the two cowardly horsemen dashed back down the road.
“W-what is going on?” a frail looking man asked.
“Attack! They disguised themselves as Zelhat, but they were not!” panted the main driver as he crawled towards the back of the carriage, urgently signalling them to follow suit. “We have to go!”
“S-shrieks! T-t-turn this thing around!”
“No good. We will just get shot! The horses are too stirred up at any rate.”
Meanwhile, the seven other soldiers all whipped our their guns and looked around, curious as to what had happened to their leader. They fanned out, slowly encroaching upon the carriage. Scanning back and forth, the small squad peering into the grass but could see nothing. Then, suddenly, something flew up into the air. Immediately, they aimed yet held their fire; it was their Field Lead. Screaming as he spiraled through the air, he soared a few meters before crashing into the dirt road face-down. The men gasped at once as Sarki slumped on his side.
“What the f**k was that?”
“Shrieks, are you alright?” one said, running towards their comrade. Before he ever made it to him, Losha leaped out of the field.
“Bwah!” the Lobul soldier blurted as she appeared before him. It was too late for him to react, however. Instantly, she charged, grabbing his shooting arm in one hand and lifting him off the ground with the other. The Wolf ran towards the group, using this one as a shield before she tossed him. Most of their lot collapsed upon the road on impact; only two remained standing. She grabbed the nearest by the wrist and spun him around into a chokehold. Taking control of his arm, she forced him to raise his pistol at the other.
“Do not shoot! For shrieking out loud, do not shoot me!” Losha’s hostage pleaded through clenched teeth as he vainly struggled. His comrade held up his gun hesitantly, knowing he might strike his own if he fired. Even so, Losha was not as indecisive. She pulled the trigger, grazing her opponent’s hand and forcing him to drop his weapon. Stepping into the scene, Faima blindsided the wounded man with a sturdy kick to the head.
The rest of the squad was starting to recover, so with a quick look towards each other, Losha and Faima knew just what to do. The Wolf whirled around, throwing her captive with a sharp twist; he smashed into the ground limply. Rising, the remaining five soldiers tried to shoot, however, their pistols, all of them, mysteriously jammed. Before Faima had entered the fight, she’d cast a targeted kinetic series on their weapons, effectively locking each of their firing mechanisms.
“F**k!” one cursed.
“D****t, you too?!”
“You want to finish this quickly?” Faima asked Losha.
“Might as well.”
The two serialists wasted no time. Thrusting their palms forward, they each cast the same kinetic series, a powerful blast of force that blew the soldiers down, like a shotgun of air. They aimed carefully and directed a pulses of invisible energy at their foes. One by one, each was flung away straight off their feet, thrown away for some distance before landing harshly. With only a few such attacks, the two of them had dispatched all of the soldiers.
“Why do you start off getting so physical?” Faima wondered. “You could have taken them all out with one series. You know, a zap of electricity, or a touch of ice...”
“Hmm... Fair point, I suppose. I think I am still working like I did in Kalon. Minimal serialization. On this operation, there is no need to hide the fact that we are serialists, however. Next time, I will be sure to turn to the art as our first measure.”
“Well, I do not blame you though. There is no substitute for taking a good crack at someone with your fists.”
Losha frowned for a moment. “Come on... I am not that violent. I think...”
At that time, the Prevati came cautiously around the carriage, tip-toeing from the rear, hiding behind the vehicles opened doors. Whispering among themselves, they peeked out, trying to see what had become of all the commotion.
“W-what happened?”
“I do not know...”
“What can you see?”
“Just... two women.”
“And the soldiers? Where did they go?”
“Who are they?”
“Shush! Shut up! We need to get away. Now is our chance. We can dive into the grass and make a run for it.”
“None of you is going anywhere,” Losha said aloud. The Prevati pulled back around the carriage and froze.
“D****t! Who are they? What the hell do they want from us?”
They kept quiet and motionless for a time, not knowing what next to expect. While they held themselves, Losha and Faima exchanged glances. Eventually, despite the mounting dread within them, the Prevati looked back. To their surprise, they spied no one ahead of them. All at once, from atop the carriage, Losha leaned over the edge, planting one foot firmly on the railing.
“Gentlemen,” she spoke, causing them to cry and shake with alarm. As their heads frantically turned around, they saw Faima standing behind them, somehow slipping in without their notice.
“W-what are y-you doing here?” asked the frail man. “We are just diplomats! N-non-combatants!”
“Are you... bandits? Please let us go!”
“Bandits?” Losha repeated. Faima folded her arms and laughed.
“Hah! To think Prevati sent a bunch of timid, weak-a*s negotiators to seal the deal with Vedniv. This is ridiculous.”
“W-what the hell is going on?” the man asked.
“We just saved your lives. Those were Lobul assassins dressed as Zelhat soldiers,” Losha said.
“B-but who are you?”
“Us? Let us just say we are... your new bodyguards.” Losha nodded over at Faima. A plan was forming in her mind. She’d only ever intended to extract the meeting location from the Prevati, then stop them from reaching Vedniv. However, it would prove more useful to go with them... “The plains are a dangerous place, after all. Best to let us help you on your way.”
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