That wasn’t the end of the matter. The advance was simply leapfrogging from one point to the next. Any attempts by the Myanmar army to form a systematic defense had proved futile, the advancing columns of armor just drove into one of the ubiquitous portals and appeared somewhere else, usually where it would do most damage. It didn’t really matter anyway, the Myanmar Army was collapsing into a rout. The troops that had invaded Thailand were still there, under assault by the 5th, 9th and 15th Infantry Divisions, but the rest of the army was dissolving. That surprised nobody, it was an army of unwilling conscripts with the highest desertion rate in the world. Faced with a mechanized enemy that could jump around the country at will, that army had come to the logical conclusion that being out of uniform was a better place than being in it.
“Any idea where we’re going now?” Mahindra’s chief of staff instinctively checked the vehicle roster. They were in remarkably good shape for a unit that had advanced so far so fast. Then, he kicked himself, as his Colonel had pointed out, they hadn’t. They’d jumped around.
“Over the river, obviously. How and where is another matter.” There was another problem, a humanitarian one. The Myanmar junta hadn’t bothered to provide any systematic and effective relief to the population in the area devastated by Cyclone Nargis almost fifteen months earlier. Now, with the country opened up by the invasion, convoys of trucks were bringing relief supplies up to the impoverished people. The problem was that the relief agencies wanted to use portals as well and there just weren’t enough sensitives to provide them all.
“Sir.” A junior officer pointed towards the road leading back to Moulmein. A column of five Humvees, driven nose-to-tail was hurtling along the road in a cloud of red dust. Even as he watched, it stopped at the perimeter and then proceeded towards the vehicle laager. When it stopped, a group of officers debussed, led by a single short figure.
“Uh-oh.” Colonel Mahindra prayed devoutly that everything in his regiment was in order.
“Colonel. I need your regiment to move out.” General Asanee’s eyes ran around the command tent taking note of the carefully marked-up maps and the updated status charts.
“Yes Ma’am. I have a company ready to move now. I can make a full regimental move in three hours.”
“Three hours?”
“When we started to resupply, I made up a fast-response team and concentrated on getting them ready to go. Now that’s done, we’re refuelling the rest of the vehicles.”
“Everybody bombed up?”
“Yes ma’am.”
The General nodded. “Well done. I see no cause for complaint. Colonel, how would you like to be the first unit into Yangon?”
“Another jump ma’am?”
“That’s right, kitten found a sensitive in a village just east of Yangon. We’re getting better at doing that all the time. We’ll form a portal from here to Hell and then one from there to the new assembly point. Once that’s secured, we’ll use it as a base for our own sensitives to establish two more jumpheads west of the city and block any routes out. Then, you take your regiment in and secure the city.”
Mahindra looked at the map. “Any resistance likely at the first jump-head?”
“Recon says minimal at best. A Global Hawk’s overhead but it can’t see anything. All the reports we are getting says resistance is crumbling fast. Third of Second got held up at Pa’an because the local people insisted on winding flowers and rosaries around the guns on the tanks. If that pattern stays repeated, you should have no problems.”
“Ma’am, I’d like to send the rapid response unit into the jump-head in about one hour. I’ll have a full battalion ready to back them up by then. If the rapid response company hits problems, a full battalion will be enough to shoot them out of it, if they don’t run into trouble, then we gain time and we can get the base established earlier.”
“Approved.” The General leaned back and grinned. “This isn’t warfare the way our fathers learned is it?”
“No Ma’am. We’ve rewritten the book out here.”
“We’ve rewritten it for campaigning under these circumstances, yes. Whether using portals this way will work in a full-scale war against serious opposition, that’s another question entirely.”
“North Korea Ma’am?”
“North Korea. Whatever they’re up to. I suspect they’re watching what’s happening out here before deciding what to do in their own back yard. And also what happens to the Myanmar Junta. We’re convinced Yahweh put them up to this attack, now the only question is whether he’ll bail them out now it’s all going pear-shaped.”
Chapter Twenty Seven
Temple of Everlasting Acquiescence, Eternal City, Heaven
They had to be around here somewhere. Lemuel-Lan-Michael looked around for one of the angels he and Michael had picked out as likely openings for the attempt to infiltrate the Second Conspiracy. It had been a careful choice. The subjects had to be high-ranking enough to have real knowledge of the Conspiracy, lowly enough to be impressed by Lemuel’s rank, ambitious enough to value the rewards that bringing such a high-ranking angel into the Conspiracy would bring, and innocent enough to lack any suspicion over why this plum should fall into their specific laps. A demanding set of requirements to be sure.
It didn’t help that the thick, clinging clouds of incense made searching the sanctuary of the Temple difficult. Lemuel had the uneasy feeling that the ones he was searching for were there, only just out of sight. This was new territory for him. His previous investigations had always been from the outside, the investigator probing the unknown. Now, he was inside. Or, at least, that was where he wanted to be. It made his mind-set even less comfortable to know that he was on his own. He had no back-up, no group of hired humans or lowly Ishim to do the leg-work for him. Even Michael wasn’t here to help him. Michael-Lan was away and would be for some time.
Where Michael-Lan had gone was technically a secret but word had already started to spread through the jewelled buildings and alabaster streets of the Eternal City. Uriel, the Sword and Scythe of the Peerless One Above All, was in desperate danger and Michael was on his way to personally rescue his old friend from the murderous intentions of the ruthless human killers. It was never spoken aloud of course, never mentioned in more than the most subdued of whispers, but the voices on the wind said that Uriel had failed in his attacks, that he had let the great Michael-Lan down and fled the scene of battle. Lemuel promised himself that when this investigation was completed, he would hunt down those ‘voices on the wind’, locate those quiet whisperers and haul them before the League of the Holy Court on charges of blasphemy. Uriel was the Sword and Scythe of the Eternal Father. For him to fail was inconceivable.
“Perpetiel-Lan-Paschar. It is a pleasure to meet you here. Does it not bring joy to your heart to take time from your onerous duties and give thanks for the Boundless Blessings that Our Eternal Father has bestowed upon us?”
The Bene Elohim turned around at Lemuel’s voice and dropped to his knees, covering his face with his wings. “This is true, Most Lordly Ophanim. The One Above All bestows such gifts upon us that there are not enough hours in all of eternity to give thanks for them. Even knowing that, it brings joy to my heart to offer such adoration as is in my humble capacity. Most Noble One, may this humble one have the honor of knowing to whom I speak?”
“Of course. I am Samandiriel-Lan-Michael.” Lemuel felt his spirit rebel as he told the lie here in the Eternal father’s own temple but needs had to be filled when desperate circumstances demanded it. “It is the first time I have attended here. Truly this Temple does honor to the Lord Above All Others.”
“It is but modest compared with the great bounties bestowed upon us.” Perpetiel-Lan looked up from behind his wings. “And your presence here adds honor to our humble gathering.”
“I was recommended here by friends who said that the devotion and worship of the congregation would restore my spirits. Come, friend, stand, there is no need for such humility. Compared with the Divine Presence, even the greatest of us is as nothing. Let us stand together in adoration of His Spirit.”
Perpetiel-Lan rose to his feet, looking curiously at Lemuel. “Your spirits are troubled, Great One?”
Lemuel sighed, a touch theatrically. “I fear so. It is this war with the humans. It does not go well and my heart aches to think of the pain human defiance is causing Our Eternal Father. I ask myself, is there not more we can do to ease His burdens? Can we not give our strength, such as it is, to help shoulder the burdens of this war? My spirit cries out, ‘thou shalt do more’ yet I can find no way to satisfy this righteous craving.”
