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Authors: Irina Syromyatnikova

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Chapter 7

Captain
Firsen, the chief of Finkaun's NZAMIPS, and his entire division combed the city block by block in search of the artisans. With the same success they could have carried water in a sieve. No doubt, someone alerted sectarians about the raids, as well as leaking the exact date of the ritual that ended so tragically for me. Needless to say, Captain Firsen thirsted for help and welcomed the arrival of Edan Satal, plenipotentiary of Senior Coordinator Larkes.

Satal
brought a new direction to the search. "The artisans have to secure a place where they can make zombies from sensors of instrumental control. Last time, they used a specific perimeter to block magic emanations. Pay attention to the places with non-standard or recently modified perimeters," the magician thoughtfully scratched his head, "and check all local almshouses, hospitals, nursing homes, and boarding schools."

With Satal's luck,
the search for the elusive artisans brought results in one day. As soon as three "salesmen" approached the gate of a private hospital for children with developmental disabilities, the building was covered with a security perimeter of enormously high power. Nearby amulets of instrumental control started pulsing hysterically. Troops of "cleaners" and the police, bored from sitting in the barracks in the "ready to move" position, sighed with relief and rushed to perform their awaited duty. Captain Firsen arrived on the scene with the first group. Apparently, the fanatics hadn't raised zombies yet, but they were determined to slam the door upon leaving.

The
"cleaners" and white magicians from NZAMIPS tried to put a defensive system of reflectors against the enemies' perimeter and quarrelled as to what basis to use - dark or white magic; they were close to starting a fist fight. Badmouthing white magicians was an unforgettable picture!

Satal rushed to the place on the first call
to sort out the reigning mess: "Residents of the two blocks nearest the hospital are to be moved out. Tell them that, if they don't, we won't guarantee their safety!"

Then Satal
focused his attention on the chief of Finkaun's NZAMIPS, "Report to me!"

"One…eh
…well-wisher informed us that the owners of the children's hospital had recently modified a perimeter without a permit. I sent three scouts to verify this info. Two were injured, one was killed."

"Scatterbrains!
How did this happen?"

"
My officers were in civilian clothes." Captain Firsen frowned, "I guess the artisans recognized one of them. They've captured hospital staff and children as hostages. I believe the sectarians are drugged: they talk complete nonsense."

"
Maybe your people didn't let them finish their trap," the former coordinator grinned.

"And we're not ready for the assault
yet," the captain shrugged. "I am waiting for reinforcements."

Both officers spotted
a group of reporters, who resisted leaving the cordoned area.

"Pull the time, negotiate, call for peace, do whatever it ta
kes to hold them till evening. Drown them in empty talk. Got it?" Satal requested.

"Yes, s
ir." Captain Firsen replied, skeptically pursing his lips.

The chief of
Finkaun's NZAMIPS proved to have a creative personality. He quickly set his negotiation post right at the shimmering veil of the perimeter. Weeping relatives, priests with spiritualized faces, an army general in a shiny uniform, and even the city mayor appeared from nowhere. Someone pulled a banner along the hospital fence with a call to love each other. And amidst this circus, NZAMIPS specialists completed their installation of the reflectors around the fence.

The artisans
started shouting - they requested the removal of "cleaners", and when the combat mages were gone from sight, the cultists calmed down a bit.

Axel flounced
among noisy journalists as a black shadow.

Satal
intercepted him and ordered him to leave, "Hey, go away! Don't frighten people more than they are already!"

Axel's eyes darted
a lightning glance: "I am the senior coordinator!"

"Not of this region.
Larkes authorized me to deal with the problem. You are interfering!"

The two dark magician
s fiercely stared at each other. Satal did not want a conflict and tried to reason with his colleague: "No time to please our self-esteem. Your meddling is taken into account by our enemies. Your presence is to their advantage. Obey or be gone."

"
What is your plan? Will you act decisively?"

Satal grinned,
"Last time they stuffed the place I stormed with nitroglycerin. How many gallons of explosives will fit into this building? Do you still want me to act decisively?"

"
Glycerin? It can't be! Their perimeter contains pure magic!"

"
Have you noticed that their perimeter lacks flutter-type spells?" Satal's smile seeped poison.

The old magician
blushed.

"
A new time brings new methods, Sir Axel. We will storm the building, but without any magic weapons. I've been waiting for the highest-protection suits."

"A couple of
suits won't help much…"

"Twenty four
of them. Larkes bought the highest-protection suits for stormtroopers. Unfortunately, Finkaun hasn't received theirs yet, but Dreyzel's team is on its way. They'll arrive by evening, but until then we'll be a role model of peacefulness and compromise. Got it?"

Satal made it clear that the debate was closed.

* * *

I learned from
Rustle
that the situation around the hospital entered its final stage. The monster spied on Satal and leaked the news to me. It was nice of
Rustle
.

I
stuffed my pockets with amulets and poisonous potions, took a pouch with my new toy - technomagic constructs, and went to seek revenge. I didn't have to go far - they planned to release their zombies close to my hotel.

Finkaun's police
worked quickly and efficiently: the hospital was cordoned off tightly. I prepared to argue and show my NZAMIPS badge, but harsh cops let me in without further ado. I guess my idiotic look was sort of a ticket to the show. I sneaked past nervously smoking officers, covered trucks with "cleaners" badmouthing in hushed tones, and joined a seething crowd that looked like a circus, though it was supposed to be a police unit.

I dropped my jaw.
The huge dome of a protective perimeter covered a detached two-storey mansion, surrounded by professionally trimmed greenery. The house had no lights, all windows were shuttered. And around the perimeter there were unbuttoned whites chanting slogans - the most active of them climbed lanterns and swayed there like chimpanzees. Some colorful characters in bowler hats and with canes gave each other interviews, a real priest held a prayer service, and two activists painted the pavement with cryptic icons. This crowd wasn't completely crazy - no one approached the droning haze of the perimeter. The chaos was so perfect that it could not appear by chance - clearly, someone staged it.

The a
rtisans were hiding inside. They did not respond to the street show and, perhaps, it was the best tactic.

Amulet
-reflectors of a military look, hoisted on high tripods, were the only signs of NZAMIPS presence. Policemen huddled around the van with healers and watched the "play". Nobody paid attention to the appearance of another character - me.

I had no idea what
the "stage director" conceived, but I wanted to crank out my revenge before he started his. The perimeter looked impenetrable and appalling: I distinctly felt a crackling fire exuded by its magic veil and even discerned signs floating in its unsteady haze.

My now
permanently active dark Source began exuding animosity, and its wounded pride demanded crushing its enemies. I reached out for the pouch of cockroaches and poured them near a water pipe sticking up in the hospital yard - it was a perfect underground tunnel for my mini-golems. The perimeter's heat wouldn't affect my unbreakable magic machines. All remaining manipulations I wanted to perform in front of witnesses, in order to provide myself with an alibi.

I got out of the
street crowd and was intercepted by Satal.

"What are you doing here?"
my teacher suspiciously squinted.

I
replied naively, "To help you with zombies, if there are any!"

"Don't
you dare meddle!" Satal snapped. "Or I'll lock you in quarantine till the end of your life. In your current condition, you can kill half of the city in one sneeze."

Son of a bitch!

He did not send me away, but he ordered the healers to keep me in sight. I took a seat in their van, opened a candy pack, and shook out into my hand a massive copper disk that looked like a maze puzzle.

One of the healers
moved next to me at once: "You must not cast spells!"

"
It's just a puzzle!"

The
device in my hands was a remote control for a horde of six-legged golems. It transmitted my directions for their movement. Having received the signal, my mini-golems were free to use their own routes to the place I wanted them to reach. The controlled device was quite basic and lacked magic, but I wasn't expecting any complex work from my little soldiers: just go inside, pause, and return to the starting point.

I pressed the button…

In a minute window glass rattled from cries inside the hospital. Palm-sized roaches would frighten even a dark mage, let alone a white…Sectarians and their victims, adults and children, jumped out of the windows on both floors and ran away through the protective perimeter, breaking hedges. Luckily, it was a two-story building. The crowd on the street was stunned.

I had to shout to bring the police to their senses,
"What are you waiting for? Grab them quickly!"

Red d
ots on my device represented the locations of the golems. A few of them pulsed - someone was brave enough to crush the creeping zombies. The roaches did not care; they were indestructible. I pressed the rune "go to warm objects" - now my constructs were supposed to latch onto people. (I also had in my arsenal the rune "ingress".)

The perimeter fell off - the
enemy was mentally broken.

I
ordered the golems to return; they reshaped themselves into nail-sized spiders and hurried back into the pouch. My revenge was accomplished, and I didn't leave any trace.

S
tormtroopers rushed into the building at the same moment as the perimeter broke. They found no adults to fight with. Stretchers with disabled children - frightened and utterly not comprehending the strange turn of their fate – were carried by the police to the healers' van. The artisans, caught outside, scratched themselves till bloody, their glances wandering and their bodies twitching convulsively, as if they were shaking off some invisible creatures.

"Your doing?"
Axel asked me with curiosity.

"
Of course not!"

"Do you li
ke watching this?" the mage didn't pay attention to my objection. "Do you savor their helplessness?  Rejoice, rejoice! But remember: evil comes back to you!"

I l
ooked at him and wondered if he ever woke up in the midst of a lethal ritual, naked, fastened to an altar, with a blocked Source! I wondered if he knew that artisans practically killed me in the Circle, that sectarians captured today would humanely pull a life sentence, but I would die in a month, writhing in convulsions! Did I have to pity them? No way! Everybody should get equal portions of justice. The artisans were not the type of people with whom you could be syrupy. My revenge should be decisive and devastating! By the way,
Rustle
fully agreed with me.

I
didn't expect to receive well-deserved laurels for destroying a whole nest of sectarians in one swing. Even more so, if NZAMIPS found that I was involved, I would go cuckoo in quarantine for life (for a month or so, keeping in mind my lethal injury). But they hadn't discovered my participation - I kept my freedom.

Finkaun'
s society was torn between two groups with opposite opinions: one admired NZAMIPS decisiveness, the other was outraged by the torture detainees experienced during the assault. The fact that these bastards planned to blow off the entire residential block remained unnoticed.

The healers didn'
t figure out how to help me get rid of my co-inhabitant, even after extensive research on the topic. I refused to believe that I was doomed. Other necromancers must have been in similar situations before! I recalled where I saw the biggest collection of books on necromancy - in Uncle Gordon's cache in Krauhard! I urgently needed to go home.

* * *

Senior Coordinator Axel broke into Satal's office without knocking. "Where is…this…"

Satal patiently
waited. His colleague knew the name of the young necromancer by heart.

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