The old man had been propped up with pillows. The General spoke: 'Give us a moment, John.' He waited for Browning to leave, studying Sullivan with cataract-filled eyes. Once the door closed, he spoke. 'At ease, Sergeant.' Sullivan realized that he'd been standing perfectly straight. Old habits die hard. 'In fact, sit. Staring all the way up there is wearing me out.'
'Yes, sir.' Sullivan pulled up a chair next to the bed. 'Can I-'
'There's nothing you can do for me now, unless you happen to come across the bastard that cursed me, and if you do, rip his heart out. Other than that, just listen…' The General's voice was a whisper. Sullivan had to lean in close to hear. 'There aren't many of us left. We've always worked in small units, in secret, but we've been hunted down like dogs. We're stuck in the middle of a war. One side's pure evil, the other side's too obstinate to realize it's even in a fight, and is more scared of its own best weapons than the enemy. Do you know who we are?'
'You're a bunch of mystics that fight evil.'
'Mystic? Sullivan, I'm an Episcopalian.'
'I only know what Dan Garrett told me, and he kept it close to the vest.'
'But you came anyway?'
Sullivan shrugged. Once again, getting involved in somebody else's fight. 'Yeah. I guess I did.'
'That's because you're a man with a sense of duty. You do what you think you have to, no matter what. I can tell that about you,' the General said. 'Don't ask how I know. I just know the measure of a man, and I can see that duty in you. It's like a fire in your belly.'
It was possible the old man's curse was affecting his mind. Sullivan didn't think he was anything special, just another guy trying to get by. A curious one though…'Why am I here, sir?'
'Jane would be quite cross if she knew I was about to do this, but we're approaching a time of reckoning. Let me show you my Power.' One palsied hand drifted over and rested on Sullivan's own, and then he saw- Macajambo, Philippines
1903
'You are the one they call Nigger Jack?' the weathered old Filipino asked in surprisingly perfect English.
He'd been given that nickname after commanding the 10th Cavalry, made up of Buffalo Soldiers. He held open the flap to his tent. 'I am Captain Pershing.' He glanced about the darkened camp and saw that the guards were still at their stations. How had this man come this far into the camp? He placed one hand on his flap holster. 'Who are you?'
The old Filipino was dressed rather nicely, with a red silk vest, probably one of the local leadership they'd been protecting from the Moros. 'I am the one who has come to teach you about magic.'
'I do not know what you are talking about,' Pershing said firmly. He looked around. No one was close enough to overhear them. Even rumors of being Actively Magical could ruin his career.
The visitor raised his hand. A gold and black ring glimmered in the torchlight. 'You have seen this before, yes?'
He had, several times in fact. As a boy, that ring had been on the hand of the man who had stopped a Missouri mob from lynching a child who could make fire with his thoughts. That ring had been on the finger of the man who'd thwarted his assignment to capture a magical Lakota girl. Then in Montana, a Cree medicine man had brought down real medicine and caused a plague to erupt, but they'd been cured by a woman wearing that same ring. In Cuba, a Spaniard who'd frozen them with his breath and shot ice crystals from his hands had been killed by an unknown soldier with a gold and black ring.
All of them had come, whether as enemy or ally, done something to protect a Magical, and then disappeared as mysteriously as they had come.
'We defend those who would be ruined because of their birthright, but we police our own, and will not allow magic to be used for ill. We keep the balance.'
Pershing only had to think about it for a moment. He held the flap open wider. 'Come inside.' Vladivostok, Primorsky Krai
1905
The international observers had been invited aboard the new airship Kurosawa, to watch the bombardment of the Russian fort. Officers from France, Britain, Germany, and the United States were on the command deck, gaping in awe at the destruction. The ocean was covered with burning oil slicks. A giant steel hulk exploded far below them and rolled on its side, breaking ponderously in two and heading for the bottom. The Russian fleet had been totally annihilated.
The United States military attache removed his pocket watch and checked it. 'Fifteen minutes,' Captain John J. Pershing stated.
The Brit, Nicholson, looked like he was going to fall over the railing in shock. The Kaiser's man was scribbling furious notes. The French major was still airsick. Pershing had to admit that he himself was a little nauseous, though not from the altitude. The Japanese airship creaked and shifted as it turned into the wind and headed for the port city. Already other dirigibles had gathered over the heavily fortified walls and the Emperor's magical shock troops were leaping down, causing chaos among the defenders. Transport ships were steaming in for an amphibious assault, while the regular army attacked overland. It was absolutely seamless.
'As you can see, gentlemen, the Emperor's forces are as well trained as I have promised,' their guide said. Today had been the first time Pershing had met the guide. He had been introduced as Baron Okubo Tokugawa, and had recently been appointed as the Chairman of the Ruling Council and chief advisor to Emperor Meiji. He was wearing a European style military uniform, with a chest full of medals, but with the Asiatic touch of a red silk sash and a traditional sword. Pershing's gut told him that this was the man running the show. 'Perhaps now, our nations can come to an understanding as to the Imperium's natural supremacy in this area.'
The Chairman's sure enjoying the view. Pershing grunted a noncommittal response. He was no diplomat. What he cared about was how the Japs had integrated magic into their war machine. Incoming shells had been deflected by coordinated Movers on the naval vessels. Heavies and Brutes were storming those walls. Damage control had been conducted by Torches who could put out the most terrible fire just by thinking about it. Hell, they were even riding on an airship designed by Cogs.
This was the beginning of the end. Either magic would be used to conquer the world, or the backlash would cause normals to become so terrified of his kind that they would be exterminated.
'How did you get so many wizards?' Nicholson asked.
'Excuse me?' the Chairman asked, raising a single eyebrow.
'You're utilizing magic on a scale we've never seen before… How?'
The Chairman nodded respectfully. 'Unlike in the West, here in Nippon, we respect those with such gifts. We take them in as they are discovered and give them the finest education possible. In exchange, they serve a term of six years in the Emperor's military or bureaucratic corps.'
'Brilliant…' said the German.
Pershing gave a bitter laugh.
'Yes, Captain Pershing?' the Chairman asked politely.
'My understanding is that you steal children away from their families as soon as you see a sparkle of magic, and then you put them in a prison where you can turn them into machines. Those who don't make the cut get experimented on until they're either useful or dead. The really strong get additional magic branded right to their souls.'
'I can assure you that the Imperial schools are a strictly voluntary affair. It is considered a great honor for a family to send their children to such prestigious institutions.' The Chairman was not easily riled. 'May I inquire who told you such lies?'
Pershing turned away from the destruction at the rail and looked the Chairman in the eye. 'Maybe I was told
