'Was the result of the British tests omni-directional or uni-directional?'
The flat voice answered again. “It was designed to hit everything in a ninety degree frontal cone, but I'm sure the engineers can refine that.”
'Well then sir, at first glance the theoretical work looks solid, we can replace the original coils with high- temperature superconductors to bring down the mass…' He grimaced briefly at the though of federal agents raiding half the low temperature physics lab in the nation for the material. 'If we can get it working at design power… couple the simulation to an evolutionary algorithm to find the optimal frequency spread… then yes sir, I think it will work.'
Buckingham Palace, London.
“Behind me you can see the new Regimental Colonel presenting the regimental colors to the reformed 1 Battalion, The Cameronians, also known as the Scottish Rifles. Due to defense cuts in the late 1960s the regiment chose disbandment over amalgamation, although two Territorial Army companies of the regiment survived as late as the 1990s before the final company was re-badged as part of the King’s Own Scottish Borderers.
“Today the only Scottish rifle regiment has rejoined its illustrious fellow regiments in the Scottish Division. Over the last month we have become rather used to de-amalgamation parades, but today’s parade is something special as it is a long time since the army has reformed a disbanded regiment.
“Behind me you can see the first recruits to join the battalion, in their distinctive Douglas tartan trews; some are former members of the two Territorial companies, though most are National Servicemen newly out of basic training.
“The Regimental Colonel is now taking the salute as the battalion marches off the parade ground.
“This is Brian Rix, for Reporting Scotland, in Hamilton. Back to the studio.”
“Your granddaughter seems to suit her new job very well, Your Majesty.” Prime Minister Gordon Brown remarked as he watched the television. “Would you like me to switch the set off, Ma’m?”
“I can manage thank you, Prime Minister, I’m not in my grave yet.” Elisabeth the Second, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of Her other Realms and Territories Queen, Head of the Commonwealth, Lord of Mann, Duke of Normandy etc, etc, formerly Defender of the Faith, said lightly as she got up to turn off the television.
“Anne is certainly very proud of Zara, though I’m not sure I approve of a rather junior subaltern being appointed as a Regimental Colonel. I do know that she is rather disappointed to have been assigned to The King’s Troop when she chose the Royal Horse Artillery; she wanted to see some action rather than being assigned to Home Defence.”
“The Ministry of Defence is rather nervous about assigning members of the Royal Family to active units. They feel they rather used up their luck with Harry. Losing a member of the Royal Family in action might hurt the nation’s morale, Ma’m.” The Prime Minister replied.
“Prime Minister, today we face the most serious threat that this country, indeed humanity, has ever faced. Should we lose the war then we will all end up in Hell, so it will not matter much if one of my family should die during the war. I also feel that we must bear all of the same risks that every other family in Britain must run.
“Andrew has already rejoined the navy; you may have noticed that Charles and my husband have been drilling with the Home Service Force Company formed from palace staff, so I do not see why William, Harry and Zara should not get their chance to see active service in this war.”
Gordon Brown smiled, this was why he liked Her Majesty, and why, on the whole he got on very well with her. His first audience with the Queen on becoming Prime Minister had been far longer than that of his predecessor; Her Majesty liked all things Scottish and was always keen to talk about Scotland. She also rather liked Sarah, the Prime Minister’s wife. “I shall pass on your wishes to the Ministry of Defence, Ma’m. When the Household Cavalry is sent into action William and Harry will not be held back, and I’m sure that if Zara wishes a transfer to another regiment of the Royal Horse Artillery it will be looked upon favorably.”
“Thank you, Prime Minister. The great advantage of a hereditary monarchy is that there are plenty of us spare should something happen to someone further up the line of succession.
“Anyway, where are my manners, how is your family?”
Chapter Thirty Five
Palace of Asmodeus, City of Dis. Hell
“Explain yourself.” Asmodeus’s voice was unforgiving.
The subject of his displeasure was cringing on the floor, trying to think of some good reasons why the situation had ever got to this point. The problem was that, while Kinathroses could think of some very good reasons indeed, speaking any of them would get him killed. Instantly.
“Sire, I was betrayed by my subordinates…”
“That goes with the territory. This is hell you know.” Asmodeus spoke in an almost friendly manner, giving Kinathroses some vague hope that he might survive this session. “Your subordinates are supposed to try and betray you. It is your duty to detect their treachery and deal with it. If you are so stupid and incompetent that you cannot do that simple thing, then you are obviously unfitted to hold the position that you presently occupy. Perhaps the subordinate who betrayed you might better be suited to your present responsibilities.”
Kinathroses’s hopes of survival took an immediate downturn. Even if he survived the interview with Asmodeus, he would be demoted to the lower ranks and left to serve one of those who had once served him. And his new lord would promptly have him assassinated to avoid any attempts to reverse the situation. Better to try a different approach. “Sire, it is the humans who are at the root of this trouble.”
“Ahh. Human magery.” Asmodeus was enjoying himself immensely. “You claim human magic is so powerful that your armies could not stand against it. Abigor claimed that you know. It cost him everything.”
May your talons rot thought Kinathroses. You have no idea what the humans are capable of. You come here, throwing your weight around without understanding anything of what has been happening. Well, you can learn the way we are learning.. “Sire, human magery is much over-rated. Oh, they have some special tricks that it true but they are of little significance compared with other factors.”
“What other factors?” Asmodeus was genuinely intrigued. This was a cut on the situation he hadn’t expected.
“Sire, it is not what the humans have to fight with, it is how they fight. Or rather how they do not fight. They do not seek out our armies to face them in combat. They hide in the rocks, the mud and the caves. They wait until they have a demon alone, or perhaps a small group, then they strike from concealment, killing without warning. Then they fade away again. With all the demons leaving to join the armies for the invasion of Earth, we have too few under arms down here to stop them. By the time the message gets back of the attack, the humans are long gone. Mostly. Sometimes, we send a rescue column out and the column itself is attacked. And again by the time we react, the humans have gone. We cannot get messages around quickly enough, there is too much space to cover.
“And then there are the mage-blasts. Nobody knows where or when the next one will be. Our demons can be on the walls, marching along a road, or resting in their outposts when a mage-blast wipes them out. No warning, no challenge to combat, just a mage blast from out of the mists and darkness. Those that survive are horribly wounded. That is the factor that we cannot fight Sire. How can we fight those who will not stand and fight.”
“Trap them so they have no choice but to fight.” Asmoedeus’s mind turned to the problems he had just heard. He had ten full legions coming down, 66,666 trained veteran demons. That would swing the force level problem decisively his way. The communications problem was one he hadn’t thought of, in his military experience, mostly limited to the formalized, choreographed skirmishes in Hell, commanding units had been no problem. The troops had always been in range of his voice or mind-masking power. It had never occurred to him that wouldn’t be the case here. But he did have enough troops to overcome that problem.
The picture of the rebellion suppression campaign started to form in his mind. He would start with a single main operational base on the edge of the 5th circle segment where the rebellion was concentrated. Then, he would start to spread across the segment, establishing each outpost within sight of another. If one was attacked, support would be immediate because other outposts would see what was happening. And, even better, they could relay mind-masked messages from one to the next, allowing the great rear base to be informed quickly.
