Army of the Mist Part 4

Disclaimer: I do NOT own any of these characters, nor works that they inhabit from SM Stirling. I am but a humble fan submitting what I think could be an interesting scenario. So this is purely a work of fan fiction.

The Castle, Golden Hinde Mountain/Commonwealth of Vancouver, British Columbia
September 6, 2021 CE (Change Year 23)

Juniper and Nigel awoke the rapping on their door that signaled it was time to get up and begin the day of war making, a task Juniper never cared for in the first place.

Colonel Hiller was as silent as the night before, but Juniper found him so serious that she didn't think any attempt at conversation would've been a good idea anyway. He gave the Mackenzies time to dress and escorketed them to the dining hall. Juniper was worried if they were going to casual with their current robes (their formal robes were beginning to develop their own ecosystems), but they were relieved to discover that their friend the Consul was still in his slippers and bathrobe when they met for breakfast.

"Sorry, but my cloths are getting cleaned for the day right now, and I didn't see the point of getting all dressed up this early for just a couple friends."

Juniper chucked, "don't worry about it, but our robes could use a wash if that's possible?"

Don whistled and a younger soldier with a single stripe on her shoulder came to attention at the table, "Sir!" She saluted with much vigor.

"Cadet Tracy please inform the custodial staff to take the Mackenzies robes to be washed," Don replied with very casual salute, "they're in the ambassador's quarters right next to mine."

"Sir Yes Sir!" And with that she ran off.

"Peppy little thing isn't she," remarked Nigel.

Don shrugged, "Cadets. They're mostly orphans that volunteer for military service once they get the chance. Either that or they're the children of current and former soldiers."

Juniper surprised at the first half. Orphans hadn't been a problem since the Change in Montival, adults took in any child who needed help, and since the Change the godparent system had taken on new life. She thought to her self that this must be a consequence of a such a populated society.

A server brought them a metal flake pot and matching cups.

"Ah, bout damn time," announced Don, "thanks Mickey."

"You are most welcome sir," the server made a short bow and looked to the Mackenzies, "Tea?"

Nigel and Juniper greatfully accepted, Tea was a luxury good that didn't grow particularly well in Oregon, but this far north Vancouver must have a marine climate that could cultivate the plant.

With one sip, a look of serenity came over Nigel, "If I didn't know better I'd say that was Earl Grey."

"Vancouver Black," replied Don, "We tried our best to get as close as possible to the origional, but I'm afraid most people take to drinking White or Oolong here."

"Blasphemy," Nigel exclaimed.

"I'm just amazed that you produce enough for any variety," Juniper said.

Don finished his first glass before answering, "Its a high demand luxury good, but most of it is grown in small farms outside the cities," he poured himself another glass, "but recently people have begun experimenting with blending again. So far I've only found the Jasmine and Mint teas to be worth mentioning in polite company."

As they continued to discuss the merits and nostalgia of blending, their server brought them there breakfast. There were plates of bacon, ham, potatoes, eggs, toast, and most surprisingly yet...

"ORANGES!" Juniper shrieked. The fruit had been extremely hard to come by since the Change, and borderline impossible in Montival. While the were grown in some places in Central and South America, there was simply no way for a ship to safely transport them without the fruit going bad, and it was too cold in Montival for them to be grown domestically.

"How the bloody hell did you get ahold of Oranges," Nigel asked.

"You ever notice those cylindrical buildings by the coast of Victoria with the thick glass windows," Don asked.

Juniper nodded, "briefly, the hotel was deeper in the city and we didn't have much time for sightseeing."

"Those were Vertical Farms," Don continued, "big greenhouses where we grow a lot of our foodstuffs year round. Comes in handy during the winter months."

Juniper planned on looking the structures over when they got back to Victoria, but for now she just enjoyed the sharp taste of the fruit. The bowl was empty by the end of the meal.

Juniper and Nigel retired to their room to enjoy a bath the Cadets had heated up for their guests and change into their freshly washed robes, before making there way up to the war room on the next floor.

"So far I think we'll have to sign an alliance with the Vancouverites just to get a ready supply of Tea," Nigel said as they ascended the stone staircase.

"Or just let them annex us and eat oranges till the day we die," Juniper chucked.

The voice from the night before nagged at the back of Juniper's mind and the laughter stopped.

She didn't mention it to Nigel, it was... unusual for the Goddess to speak to her in such a direct manner, and without provocation. Juniper didn't know how to take it, but she did know that with such a forward message, a sign would surely follow.

At the top the stairs they came to a great set of doors with images of George Washington and Julius Caesar etched in Gold. Two knights in the black armor of the training yard stood at attention before opening the great entrance to the War Room.

It was a circular atrium with a set of windows looking out over the valley that led to the Castle, on the wall to the left of the entrance was a very detailed map of the world prior to the Change, on the right was a similar post-Change Map. And on the Table in the center of the room was a topographical map of the north western United States with a series of markers on it, indicating troop movements. Standing around the table, and in some cases sitting were a number of men and two women in black trench coats or button down shirts with white stars on their shoulders, and Don with his gold stars, at the head of the table.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, our friends from Montival. They all gave short bows and in some cases saluted, "Lady Juniper, Sir Nigel, the General Staff of Vancouver."

"We were just going over the timeline of our deployment. Long story short the Speaker has the votes together for the Parliament to approve the Declaration of War, which I'll officially make once I return to Victoria; fortunately by then our troops will be ready to deploy on my command, which will be by on the 11th if nothing truly catastrophic happens in that time."

"Who will be leading the landing fleet then if you're going to be in Victoria," Nigel asked matter-of-factly.

Don gestured to the woman to his right, "Admiral Mertz here will command the ships leading the fleet to Oregon, while Generals Green, Wheeler, and Kramarevsky," he pointed to the three Generals across the table, "will lead the landing party to Pendleton, rendezvousing with me prior to engaging with the enemy."

"What kind of support can we actually expect upon arrival Consul-General," Juniper asked.

Don looked to an older General at the far side of the table, who was still sitting down. His white mane thinning with his advanced age while a great pink scar cut through his cheek.

"All told, when the reservists arrive here, we'll have about 76,000 people we can put in the field," the old warrior announced with a raspy voice, "we got about twenty Seige Towers we'll be sending your way, along with a few dozen heavy bolt throwers and trebuchets. Napalm, Thermite, Cluster Munitions, along with big damn rocks."

"Cluster Munitions," Nigel asked bemused by the phrase.

"Basically a bolt thrower that has a projectile that we set to come apart mid flight and drops a bunch of smaller steel missiles about yay long," he put his fingers just under a foot apart from each other, "pretty effective for taking out densely packed enemy troops, but they're only good until you're own guys engage then its just suicidal."

Juniper decided to go for a subject that had been bothering her since she heard the initial troop projections in the Speaker's office. "You don't have any bio-chemical agents do you?"

Don's face went completely stone cold, "Yes, but they're kept in our stockpiles in a secure location along with some other sensitive materials," he looked reassuringly to the General Staff who looked somewhat unsure about sharing what might have been classified information, "they're meant to be used only if we encounter another power that might be otherwise inclined to use them on us. Mutually Assured Destruction isn't completely dead you know."

Juniper took that for what it was worth when one of the other Generals pushed the issue. "Our reports say Boise and the CUT do not have access to such weapons, but if you know something we don't..."

"They don't," Juniper wanted to kill the idea of this turning into a Gas War as quickly as possible, "Boise destroyed theirs like a lot of folks, and the CUT considers them to be part of the advanced technology that doomed the world, the wouldn't hold onto them."

With that they moved on. The meeting went forward with battlefield statistics, strategy planning, and intelligence reports until Noon, up on which the General Staff broke for lunch.

Juniper had a few questions for the Consul that she felt would be ill met, much like the topic of nerve gas, if mentioned in front of the General Staff.

"You mentioned, 'other sensitive material,' earlier. What specifically were you referring too?"

Don's expression was just as cold as it was the subject had first arisen, "Pre-Change weapons and ammunition, lets just leave it at that."

In spite of his desire to keep the conversation short, Nigel pressed on, "well if you can't tell us specifics could you at least explain why you would want to keep completely useless weapons of war?"

"On the off chance that the Change is ever undone, Vancouver didn't want to be gobbled up by the first power that figured out how to work a gunpowder cannon again, so we preserved as much as we could for future generations," he looked directly at Nigel, "please don't go any further, most of what we've recovered is classified material and I can't discuss it anymore than what I've already said."

Juniper felt uneasy after brining it up, something about the way the Consul looked and spoke made her feel like she should heed the whisper from the night before. The Consul never once came across to the Mackenzie as anyone to feel threatened by; he was hospitable, friendly, and had a way about him that reminded her of Mike. His cold stare was the only sign she had ever seen of any kind of dark side to this seemingly kind hearted leader. Even then Juniper wanted to dismiss it as a leader's natural mistrust of foreigners asking about state secrets. She put it out of her mind for now.

The Consul stayed with the Mackenzies during lunch. He seemed to like spending time with Mackenzies, and Juniper couldn't deny that she enjoyed spending time with Don. Even Nigel, who she suspected was wary of the Consul much earlier than she, seemed to have taken a liking to the man behind the leader; something most did not have the luxury of in the Changed world.

"I must say Sir Nigel this Sam Alyward, really would have come in handy when we were getting started. All we had to go on in the way of archery were old compound bowes, having the genuine article would have sped that little part of reconstruction up by miles."

"Well the feeling's mutual there, Junie was the one who found him and benifitted the most from his skills, England largely had to go off of the old Society chaps." Nigel and Sam had been in the same outfit of the SAS prior to the Change, and Sam was, fortunately for Juniper, on holiday in Oregon when it happened.

"They weren't much help for us, always trying to get us to worry about making swords when we had machetes coming out of our ears, and people were starving. They actually were more useful after we got settled. I had a cousin with the SCA who helped start the Thespian's Guild in Victoria."

That was the first time the Consul had mentioned anyone in his family since they arrived, and Juniper decided to press the subject, "You had family on Victoria during the Change?"

"None," Don answered, "we all came over on the boats during the exodus from the mainland. Me, my parents, my sister, and a few cousins and the like. We were actually in the middle of a family get together when it happened."

"Were you married?" Nigel was the one to bring that touchy subject up, Juniper supposed that he might be a little bit envious of a man who lost so few of his family where others were left with nothing.

"Fraid not," Don replied with a little regret in his voice, "there have been a few long term relationships since, but nothing permanent. Almost tied the not once, but that fizzled; guess I've just put so much of myself into my job that I've never gotten around to starting a family."

Once again Juniper couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Don, everyone had known hardship since the Change, and in her experience leaders often found themselves away from their families more than most, but the Consul of Vancouver seemed as if he had been pouring his entire existence into making Vancouver what it is, leaving nothing for himself.

"I hope you don't take this the wrong way Conusl," Nigel asked, "but what exactly does your office require of you?"

Don finished his tea before answering, "Well I am required to lead a survey team across the continent every four years to examine the state what remains of the United States and Canada; we usually try to hit the major cities as well as the capitols of the new nations."

Juniper was taken aback by that. Willingly go into ever Death Zone on the continent? Rudi was making his quest out of necessity, but to do so periodically and wilingly? Such a thing was unthinkable!

"Why on Earth would you do such a thing?" Nigel was equally surprised at the Consul's admission.

Don seemed entertained by their reactions, "What? You sound like its dangerous or something," Juniper and Nigel's expressions didn't change, but that only seemed to give the consul a chuckle. "We do it to see if there's any chance we can take back the Death Zones. A lot of useful land and resources are trapped in those endless hellscapes. Fuck, just the Cotton from the South would make life a lot better for people up here."

"When did you start this mad tradition?" Nigel asked.

Don leaned back in his chair seeming to search through his memories for a date, "Oh, let me see... the 7th Year of the Change I believe. Yeah, we'd just passed an amendment to the Isolation Act that would require periodic expeditions," he leaned toward his guests, "thing is the first one wasn't a survey mission, it was a salvage operation."

Juniper perked up, "Salvage for what exactly?"

A grin creeped across Don's face, "What remained of America..."