But I don’t see how I can be of help.”
“I was afraid of that.” Soren sadly picked up Mjolnir and held it high. “If only I could be like the son of Odin and call down the thunder and lightning.”
About to resume eating, Richter looked at him and then at the hammer. “Lightning, you say?”
“Yes. Surely you’ve read of Thor’s exploits?”
“Can’t say as I have, no. But you’ve just given me an idea. Ever used an electroshock weapon like a Taser or one of those new Voltz? I sold them back when I had my gun shop.”
Soren shook his head. The only time he had ever seen them was on television and in the movies.
“They made great strides in miniaturization right before this damn war. The Voltz looked like a pen, but it packed quite a wallop. Up to two million volts, if I remember correctly.”
“What are you suggesting?”
Richter came around the table and examined the hammer more closely. “Would you trust me to replace this handle? Say, with a titanium alloy, hollowed out so I can fit it with those new solarium capacitors and a selector switch? All insulated, of course, so you only fry those you’re fighting and not yourself.”
“I’ll be able to stun people?” Soren liked the idea, but it wasn’t what he had had in mind and certainly wouldn’t convince Slayne to let him use Mjolnir.
“Oh, I think we can do better than that.” Richter circled the handle with two fingers, gauging how thick it was. “There’s this young man named Allan Timm. He’s the Assistant Armorer, as Carpenter calls him.
Allan is a gun nut, but he’s also quite good at electronics. With his help we should be able to outdo the commercial models.”
“How would it work, exactly?” Soren asked. “I’d shoot little darts out of the handle?” Even that didn’t appeal to him.
“Oh, no, Mr. Anderson. Didn’t you ever read Popular Mechanics? The latest versions use the air as a conductor.”
Soren drummed the table in mild impatience. “Spell it out for me, Mr. Richter. What exactly will I be able to do?”
The Armorer smiled. “You’ll be able to shoot lightning bolts.”
A tingle ran from the nape of Soren’s neck to the base of his spine.
He said, almost breathlessly, “You’re kidding me.”
“Not at all.” Richter scratched his chin. “Let’s see. If I make the new handle longer, we can rig it so you can trigger a discharge several rimes without recharging. I should guess it would give you a range of twenty or thirty feet.”
“Dear Odin.”
Richter was absorbed in the challenge. “As added protection we should come up with special gloves. Rubber would work. Maybe even a whole suit. Like one of those wet suits that divers wear.” He paused. “I wonder if Carpenter has one stockpiled somewhere?”
Images danced in Soren’s head. He grabbed the Armorer’s hand and enthusiastically pumped it. “If you can do this, Mr. Richter, I’ll be forever in your debt.”
“Don’t get excited yet. I have to run it past Allan. He’s the one who can make it work. Why don’t you bring your hammer by my workshop in an hour or so for him to look at?”
“I’ll be there.” Soren grabbed Mjolnir and hurried out to break the news to Toril. In his excitement he nearly collided with someone coming the other way. “Oh. Sorry, Mr. Carpenter. I didn’t see you.”
Kurt Carpenter was consulting a digital clipboard. “Mmmm?” he said absently, and looked up. “Mr. Anderson. How are you? I want to personally thank you for volunteering to be a Warrior. Patrick tells me you’re one of his most promising recruits.”
That reminded Soren of something. “Did he talk to you about my code name?”
“Your what?”
Soren explained that Slayne had insisted each of the Warriors use a code name.
“He says they are common, that Special Forces use them when on combat ops, as he calls it.” Soren hesitated, then came out with it: “But when I told him the name I want to use, he called it silly. Inappropriate, was his exact word.”
“What do you want to be called?” “Thor.”
Carpenter coughed, then said, “It’s rather unusual.” “I just don’t want anyone to forget,” Soren said. “Forget what?”
“The God of Thunder.” Soren let out his passion. “Think about it, sir. The world has pretty much come to an end. All those cities destroyed. All those millions and millions killed.
Civilization has to start over. But without electricity and with all the schools closed and a lot of the libraries destroyed, who will remember the things of the past? Who will remember Thor? Or those Spartans you were talking about? Or anything having to do with history? It will all be forgotten.”
Kurt Carpenter gave a start. “I hadn’t thought of that.” He gnawed his lower lip. “Mr. Anderson, you’ve given me an inspiration. I must think on it more, but I thank you.” He started to go on by.
“Wait. What about my code name?”
Carpenter smiled. “From this moment on we’ll call you Thor.”
First Run
Two weeks of intense training was all they had. Slayne would have liked to spend longer, but Carpenter insisted they must find out what happened to the SEAL. “I can’t stress how important it will be to those who come after us.” The entire Family saw them off.
Carpenter climbed to the rampart above the moat and raised his arms to get everyone’s attention. “This is a momentous day.
Our first foray into the devastated world. We have no idea what our Warriors will find, but it’s safe to say their travels will not be without peril. We wish them Godspeed.”
From all sides came cheers and waves.
Slayne wheeled the Hunster over the drawbridge. “This is our first combat op as a team, and it’s bound to be rough. We haven’t had nearly enough time to work together. Follow my lead and keep your headsets on at all times and we should make it back alive and in one piece. Any questions?”
“What was it Kurt Carpenter said we
