sat in the small compartment in the back with three others—Bastet, Janus, and a man I hadn’t met yet but whose entire bearing told me he was annoyingly earnest, even though he tried to play it a little cool. He didn’t pull it off very well. “Karthik,” he said, as he extended a hand to shake mine. I looked at it with pity, and he nodded and withdrew it with a chagrined look. I wondered if he’d ever met a succubus before; plainly he knew what I was all about if he took his hand back so quickly.
Unless he just figured I was unfriendly. I was all right with that too, though.
We experienced some turbulence off and on as we flew relatively low over the English countryside. I watched London fall away behind us, a bit at a time, and reflected on how different it was from Minneapolis. My city was dingy in places, but the buildings had a newer, boxier feel to them. I had caught another glimpse of London’s skyscrapers as we took off. They were no doubt impressive, and in truth newer in a lot of ways than what Minneapolis had. But the rest of the buildings were where the difference lay. Most of London felt old, riddled with history spanning back hundreds of years. It carried an aura of age, of being preserved. It was the old world, a place where history was everything. Minneapolis was the new world, nothing older than fifty or a hundred years, and most of it far newer than that.
I watched the buildings thin as we headed north, and I realized that a part of me missed the new world. As much as I appreciated it, the truth was I had no more connection to the old than anything else transitory in my life. It was just another place, with no more significance than anything else I’d read about in those old books that had piled up on the shelf in my room over time.
Green fields and freeways (I’d heard them called motorways here) passed underneath. The chopper was quiet as we flew, and I wondered why they weren’t at least talking to each other. Janus looked quiet, his face slack as he stared at the steel floor. Bastet was tense, I could see, and she had changed into a flight jumpsuit that looked to be made of heavy cloth. Her hands were exposed and she wore sandals, which I thought was odd before realizing that as a cat goddess she probably had literal claws. Karthik, on the other hand, was dressed in something only a few degrees off from what M-Squad had worn when we’d been on missions.
After about an hour, I felt the chopper shift and begin to descend. I looked out the window and saw a village that could only be described as quaint. Everything was brick, rows and rows of brick homes, with flat roofs that came around the edges of the buildings like helmeted tops. For some reason I thought of Oliver Cromwell. Hell if I know why.
The pilot took us down to a gentle landing, and I slid the door open before Karthik could do it for me. Janus showed no reaction as I glanced back at him, but I could see both him and Bast queuing up behind me to make sure that they didn’t waste an unnecessary moment on the helicopter after I’d gotten off. I felt my shoes slip into the long grass patch we’d landed on, could feel but not hear the crunch of the grass underfoot over the wash of the rotors. The green waved and blew from the air that our helo was disturbing, and I got clear of it with a slow, determined stride. No point in acting like I was in a desperate hurry or anything.
Karthik passed me just beyond the perimeter of the helicopter blade, and I noticed a single pistol on his belt. I thought about asking for a weapon, but we were fast approaching a half dozen police officers blocking the main road into town, their subcompact cars the sort of thing one would find in the smallest of parking spaces in the U.S. Here they appeared to be standard issue.
They were wearing vests, fluorescent yellow with silver reflective strips. Their hats were tall, too, ridiculously tall to my mind. I followed behind Karthik and exchanged a glance
Unless he just figured I was unfriendly. I was all right with that too, though.
We experienced some turbulence off and on as we flew relatively low over the English countryside. I watched London fall away behind us, a bit at a time, and reflected on how different it was from Minneapolis. My city was dingy in places, but the buildings had a newer, boxier feel to them. I had caught another glimpse of London’s skyscrapers as we took off. They were no doubt impressive, and in truth newer in a lot of ways than what Minneapolis had. But the rest of the buildings were where the difference lay. Most of London felt old, riddled with history spanning back hundreds of years. It carried an aura of age, of being preserved. It was the old world, a place where history was everything. Minneapolis was the new world, nothing older than fifty or a hundred years, and most of it far newer than that.
I watched the buildings thin as we headed north, and I realized that a part of me missed the new world. As much as I appreciated it, the truth was I had no more connection to the old than anything else transitory in my life. It was just another place, with no more significance than anything else I’d read about in those old books that had piled up on the shelf in my room over time.
Green fields and freeways (I’d heard them called motorways here) passed underneath. The chopper was quiet as we flew, and I wondered why they weren’t at least talking to each other. Janus looked quiet, his face slack as he stared at the steel floor. Bastet was tense, I could see, and she had changed into a flight jumpsuit that looked to be made of heavy cloth. Her hands were exposed and she wore sandals, which I thought was odd before realizing that as a cat goddess she probably had literal claws. Karthik, on the other hand, was dressed in something only a few degrees off from what M-Squad had worn when we’d been on missions.
After about an hour, I felt the chopper shift and begin to descend. I looked out the window and saw a village that could only be described as quaint. Everything was brick, rows and rows of brick homes, with flat roofs that came around the edges of the buildings like helmeted tops. For some reason I thought of Oliver Cromwell. Hell if I know why.
The pilot took us down to a gentle landing, and I slid the door open before Karthik could do it for me. Janus showed no reaction as I glanced back at him, but I could see both him and Bast queuing up behind me to make sure that they didn’t waste an unnecessary moment on the helicopter after I’d gotten off. I felt my shoes slip into the long grass patch we’d landed on, could feel but not hear the crunch of the grass underfoot over the wash of the rotors. The green waved and blew from the air that our helo was disturbing, and I got clear of it with a slow, determined stride. No point in acting like I was in a desperate hurry or anything.
Karthik passed me just beyond the perimeter of the helicopter blade, and I noticed a single pistol on his belt. I thought about asking for a weapon, but we were fast approaching a half dozen police officers blocking the main road into town, their subcompact cars the sort of thing one would find in the smallest of parking spaces in the U.S. Here they appeared to be standard issue.
They were wearing vests, fluorescent yellow with silver reflective strips. Their hats were tall, too, ridiculously tall to my mind. I followed behind Karthik and exchanged a glance
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