Invasion: Book One of the Secret World Chronicle-ARC Read online

  Thule Society infiltrated Nazi metas circa 1942 and probably directed the course of the war from that point. Hitler assassinated by Ubermensch, witnessed by Himmler. Source: Rheinhold Karl Fritz, former SS commander, also known in occult circles as “Black Flame,” secretly a member of Himmler’s inner circle of occultists in opposition to the Thulians. According to Fritz, Red Saviour was not only aware of this, but enabled the assassination, as coordinated by Himmler. Fritz suggests Ubermensch then removed Himmler and brought in a Thulian psionicist to orchestrate suicides and wipe memories. My further intel suggests this has relevance to the current incursion.

  Minutes passed, as weighty as hours, but her father did not call back. She tried to envision how her father, always a devoted patriot, could be party to any intrigue involving his dire enemies, the enemies of her people, but the concept was too appalling and abstract. Natalya had always thought of Nazi Germany as a monolithic monster, united in hateful purpose. How could Hitler’s own followers turn so dramatically against him at such a crucial time? This was as if FDR had been cut down by Yankee Doodle. Or the Emperor of Japan by Divine Wind.

  The sorcerer feared Red Saviour, this she knew. Could she be attempting to undermine the solidarity of the CCCP by driving a wedge to divide its very heart in two?

  She glared at the phone. “Come on, old man. Don’t make me wait.”

  “NAT!” The bellow was not from the person she wanted to speak to right now.

  “Go away! I am working.”

  “This won’t wait.” The blue girl marched into Natalya’s office with that very sorcerer in tow. The sorcerer did not look happy to be there.

  “You!” Red Saviour leapt to her feet, eliciting a satisfying cringe from Vickie. “Not satisfied to slander my father by email? Now you trespass in my headquarters?”

  The girl was clutching a sheaf of papers to her chest; she closed her eyes and thrust them at Saviour.

  “Oh, now you make your accusations with paper. My father is hero of Soviet Union—the Motherland. You have very much nerve to claim he colluded with Nazis.”

  “He stopped the war,” Vickie squeaked.

  “The Russian people stopped the war…with help from some allies. Wars are fought by nations, not by individuals.”

  “No, he stopped the war right then. Before Hitler could use his A-bomb on Moscow.” Vickie’s eyes were still squeezed shut. And she said something in Russian that could only have been a direct quote from her father. It had all the right phrasing, all the right nuances.

  And the right pragmatic feeling to it. “Esli ti vibiraesh mezdu adom ili diavolom, diavol—luchshii vibor.”

  When you face hell or the devil, the devil is a better option.

  Red Saviour gawked at her. “Where did you learn these things?”

  The papers in Vickie’s hand shook so hard they rattled. “It’s in there. My secret sources. Occultists, magicians, on both sides of the former Iron Curtain. It never was more than a Paper Curtain for us. But…as Fritz said, it all seemed to be ancient history, hardly worth believing, not worth talking about…until swastikas poured out of the sky. And he already told all this to Echo, who patted him on the head and told him to go away.”

  Natalya took the papers from Vickie’s hands and set them on her desk. “I’ll read them later.”

  “Echo’s been holding out on you, Nat,” said Bella. “Vickie’s dug up a lot. It’s not just Red Saviour Senior who’s been keeping you in the dark. And, oh, it gets better, Nat.” Natalya could not help but see that Bella was not at all intimidated by Saviour’s fuming anger. “And I will bet a cookie that rat bastard Tesla has not bothered to tell you this part.”

  “Shto?” Saviour’s eyes glittered. “There is more than my father allying himself with Nazis?”

  “Da, and this is as recent as the headlines. Show her, Vic.”

  The sorceress shoved more papers at her. Photographs of someone taking the armor off one of the troopers. Natalya’s eyes widened, and her jaw dropped a little.

  “This is—shopping photos, surely—”

  Bella snarled. “No. It’s real. About a third of those damn goose-stepping bastards are, were, aliens. As in, yes, not from this world. I know. I saw them. Without the suits. At Groom Lake. I just didn’t have the proof to show you.” Her lips twisted. “That would be why they tried to retrieve every suit and body they could and attempted to incinerate the rest. Now put that together with the Thulians infesting the Nazis in 1942 and what do you get? Explains the house painter’s A-bomb very nicely, doesn’t it? And it also explains fricking spaceships full of Schutzstaffle.”

  With a practiced motion, Red Saviour extracted a cigarette from her pocket and lit up. She took several long pulls on the foul-smelling import, eyes closed, letting the information sink in. She had seen many bizarre, inexplicable things in her life, enough to eschew paranoiac explanations over common sense. Yet her father’s evasive behavior on the phone kept her skepticism at bay. The last exhalation was a smoke ring. At last she met both Americans’ eyes.

  “Let us say that I believe what you have uncovered is being true…just for the moment. Why would you share this with me? Surely you are compromising classified information. Does Tesla excite so little loyalty in his employees?”

  “My loyalty is to the human race. Which I happen to want to see survive.” Bella’s eyes actually glowed a little. “Politics and borders be damned. If FDR and Churchill could crawl into bed with that monster Stalin for the same reason, I can sure as hell leak what needs to be leaked to our allies.”

  Red Saviour felt her stomach churn with outrage. “Stalin? Be careful which lines you are crossing, girl.”

  Bella gave Vickie a significant look. “About that job. We need to see Tesla now, in the next hour or two at minimum. And we need to get into his appointment calendar without going through his secretary.”

  Vickie ducked her head. “Right. Uh…Commissar? Do you want to watch over my shoulder? It could take…a while. Half an hour, maybe. My laptop and stuff are in the medic bay.”

  “Nyet. Report to me when you are finished.” The look Saviour shot at her was marginally more friendly. Vickie only hoped that something would happen to turn that I-will-not-kill-you-yet glare into something…less lethal.

  The Russian turned to Bella. “Now then, comrade. You were comparing me to Stalin?”

  * * *

  Telsa was certain that this morning Belladonna and the CCCP virago had not been on his appointment calendar. But suddenly they were in his trailer, crammed between a visit from the FBI liaison and a city planner. With them was a cringing blond girl with her arms full of file folders. She had an Echo uniform, so he didn’t give her more than a curious glance before settling on the two attention-grabbers.

  Red Saviour wore what must be her dress uniform: a sharp military cut with epaulets and long gloves, and an anachronistic sickle and hammer emblazoned on her sleeve. She smirked at him as a wolf might at its noontime meal.

  “Mr. Tesla. So good of you to see me. I cannot fault Southern hospitality.” Without being invited, she took a seat. “I am being sure you know your employees who accompany me.”

  Belladonna grimaced. “For the record, I am an increasingly uncomfortable employee. And right now, you are not gonna like what we have to tell you.”

  “I can only imagine,” Tesla said with a sigh. A gloom settled over him, the inevitability of confrontation.

  Red Saviour put out a hand, into which Vickie placed a file folder. The Russian opened it, and after a dramatic pause, read out: “The Thulians are not of this world. We are the pawns of impossible creatures who move us on their chessboard with invisible hands. Tesla must know.”

  Eisenfaust’s last words to Walter Slycke, retrieved by Belladonna Blue herself. He strove to control his expression. “That’s interesting.”

  “What’s interesting,” Bella snapped, “is that you didn’t see fit to share it with the leader of the second largest, non-profit metahuman organizat
ion on the continent. In your own back yard. Or this—” She took another file from the blonde and slapped it down in front of him, open. It showed an autopsy of one of the aliens extricated from Thule trooper armor. “Or this!” Another file, this one dating back to World War II. He didn’t have time for more than a glance before it was the Russian’s turn.

  “I’m hurt, comrade. So much to learn from each other, yet you never stopped by for tea.”

  “It appears you have no trouble learning my secrets, Commissar. Should I be upset that you subverted two of my own to steal intel?”

  Belladonna flushed a dark blue. “Steal? This is something you should have been sharing in the first place! Jeezus Cluny Frog, haven’t you figured out by now that the old rules don’t work anymore?” She waved her hand. “Your HQ is toast, two-thirds of your people are dead, and you have no idea where the goons that did it came from or where they went! They damn near got Slycke before we did, we’ve had three hit squads pop up since, and you can bet your last dime they are going to be back in force!”

  Tesla glared at her as she emphasized her tirade with dramatic gestures and made a note to have her fired at once. The last thing he needed was a girl young enough to be his daughter second-guessing what was becoming an increasingly difficult balancing act.

  Red Saviour’s eyes turned to cold steel as she watched him squirm. “What about the national intelligence agencies? FBI, NSA, CIA. You are keeping them in dark also?”

  “We concluded that this intel was not critical to the current line of investigation to the whereabouts of the Thulian forces. It was the right decision. We didn’t want to cloud the water with paranoid chatter.” He pointed a finger at the blue girl. “Or, for that matter, get the tabloids in an uproar about ET throwing a seig heil at our doorstep. You have a lot of nerve to make that decision for the organization.”

  Bella glared. “Does she look like a tabloid reporter? Wake up, Tesla, this is your ally! Unless you want to alienate her altogether, it’s time to play ball. Vic. Lay it on him.”

  The blonde cleared her throat nervously. “In 1942, Goering was approached by a—creature—who penetrated into his office without passing his guards or his receptionist.” As she continued her story, Alex felt the hair on the back of his neck standing up. “…and in order to prevent the detonation of an alien-designed atomic weapon in Moscow, Red Saviour Senior colluded with Ubermensch to arrange for the metahuman to assassinate Hitler and his top officials in their bunker. But then Ubermensch disappeared. And so did most of the other Nazi metahumans. My sources say they were mostly subverted by the aliens we know as the Thule Society. Presumably…they went wherever those ships came from.” With a shaking, gloved hand, she put the folder on his desk and looked at the latest Red Saviour, who inclined her head in approval.

  Tesla felt his heart sinking as Vickie confirmed what the intelligence agents of Metis had speculated upon for decades.

  And in that moment, he realized that he had strayed from the principles on which Echo was founded. Not for the protection of borders, or property, or politics or secret agencies, but rather the protection of people. He had been keeping secrets from the wrong people.

  He took a deep breath. “Neu Hyperborea.”

  The women all stiffened. He leaned forward, hands spread to show that he was ready to talk.

  “We know the name of the Thule capital, though not the location. I have agents working to uncover this information right now. You must understand, though, that it is not a simple matter of find the target and pull the trigger. The forces at work here are far, far more complex.”

  “What is being complex about massacres?” Red Saviour snapped at him. “Those who brought death must meet with the same.”

  “Shiva is both a creator and a destroyer. When she dances, there’s no telling which way the dance will turn.”

  The Americans blinked at him. Red Saviour began to rise from her seat. “You are mocking me, Tesla, and I am not tolerating it. I will tear down the rest of your campus if you are concealing information that will save lives.” Her fists glowed slightly. So did the blue healer’s eyes. And…the little blonde sprouted a golden aura.

  Metahumans did not frighten him. Tesla met her angry glare. “You’re in over your head.”

  “No wonder you and my father got along so well. You are both chauvinist pigs who think you know better than rest of world.”

  “Your father knows you’re unreliable, which is why he palmed you off on us. He expected that you’d amuse yourself with street fights and raids on crack houses. You should stay with what you know.”

  “Her father is a reactionary old rat bastard who’s more interested in chasing women than actually thinking about the genie that got out of the bottle!” Belladonna snapped. “For better or worse, this Red Saviour has her priorities right!”

  “Da. And this Red Saviour is the one who will be fighting alongside your operatives when next blitzkrieg hits. You cannot choose your allies, comrade. The proletariat must put aside differences to stand together against oppression. If you do not understand that, then you are not worthy of position.”

  “Fire in the sky…” the blonde murmured, looking a little dazed. She shook her head. “Sir…you have an angel, a real angel, perched on the top of the Suntrust Tower right this minute. Ask any magician. They’ll tell you. The Seraphym is no metahuman, and no illusion. She’s the real thing. Haven’t you thought once about what that means? And if you don’t believe me, and you won’t believe your own Echo mages—ask Mercurye. Or try, anyway. He disappeared shortly after he talked to her. It’s in my intel.”

  Tesla blinked. Who was this woman? She seemed to have the entire Echo database in her head.

  Red Saviour’s harsh features softened. “So you see, comrade, this war will go on with or without you. I am willing to be your ally—your friend—if you will extend trust to receive trust. Was it not your own George Washington who said, ‘United we stand, divided we fall?’ ”

  “I think that was Benjamin Franklin.…”

  “No, Franklin said, ‘We must hang together or surely we will hang separately.’ ” The blonde seemed to have a good history book in her head too.

  “Is not mattering. Sentiment is correct.” She offered a hand to Tesla. “My CCCP is wounded, but it is not broken. I will give you everything I am having to give. Let us face common enemy together.” Her eyes blazed with fervor.

  Tesla hesitated. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. You may wish you’d stayed with drug dealers and street thugs.”

  “Comrade, I survived massacre that now has been named for me. I am afraid of nothing else. What are you afraid of, besides failure?”

  He grasped her hand. An uncertain grin spread across his face. “Point taken.” Then he turned to the two Echo operatives. “I’ll have to upgrade both of your clearances… hell, what you’re about to see and hear doesn’t even have a clearance. I don’t think more than three people have ever seen these documents.” He headed for the back wall, and a safe.

  But that was when a single tone, like a deep, resonating wind chime, sounded from inside his desk. He froze, then shrugged. “Speak of the devil,” he said to himself, and returned to the desk, which had been shipped via very special courier indeed when he actually had an office again.

  He gave the mouse from his computer three fast clicks and drew an “M” with it. Computer and desktop dropped. The Metis communication device rose to take its place. The mouse had read his fingerprint and DNA of course—it wouldn’t do for anyone to be able to get at the device just by an errant mouse click.

  Two slender wires extended up, impossibly rigid, with a luminescent aura that stretched between them like slow-motion lightning blasting through the ocean. The crackles resolved into a human face, tanned and handsome and accustomed to petulance. A winged helmet topped blond curls, and the monitor showed the man’s bare shoulders. Mercurye peered into the aether.

  “Alex?”

  “Righ
t here, and with friends. You can speak freely.”

  “I think I recognize the blue chick. Okay, listen. Things are weird here in Metis, and getting weirder by the minute. I gotta tell you, Alex, there are at least a dozen Echo ops better suited to this spy crap than me.”

  Tesla couldn’t help but smile. “You can’t always choose your allies. What have you got for me?”

  Red Saviour leaned over. “What is this Metis?”

  “Hold on, Rick.” Tesla took a deep breath. “Every piece of technology with an Echo stamp originated from Metis—think of it as a family-run business, and we’re the official dba. Metis has been working for world peace behind the scenes since the forties.”

  “Guess again, chief.” Mercurye shook his head woefully. “Business ain’t so good.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Mercurye looked over his shoulder in an overt display of paranoia. “Your uncle’s running interference for me so we can talk, but I have to make it quick, so listen up.” He took a deep breath. “Metis is on the fence with this one. Most of them actually don’t want to get involved. They don’t want a war on their doorstep.”

  “War? Is war now?” Red Saviour leaned forward despite Alex’s hand on her arm. “What do you know?”

  “I can’t—damn it, there’s no time. Alex, you’re on your own. Don’t talk to anyone here but Nikola, and don’t spill your plans. They won’t help, no matter what I tell them. They won’t help!”

  “What about Marconi? Can’t he and Nikola—”

  “No good. This place is total Orwell—like some weird soulless utopia for scientists. All they care about is data, and keeping themselves safe.” Mercurye’s eyes glistened. “Christ, I don’t know what to do!”

  Alex kept his voice calm. “You’re already doing it. Stay there and lobby for us—”

  But Mercurye raised his hand for silence—a hand covered with blood. He glanced around and then back to the screen long enough to make contact, with eyes quivering with fear, fear greater than that of individual death: fear of helplessness.