positions, Mark could only feel anxiety. Walker and a number of the Japanese soldiers made it look so easy. But damn it, every time he tried to focus his power he found himself breaking into a cold sweat.
As if to add insult to injury, Walker called for everyone's attention.
"Hey, watch this!"
He turned his back to a target dummy and projected an over-the-shoulder shot at his straw opponent. Valdez was all over him in an instant, but Mark decided not to intervene. He was having enough trouble just trying to work up enough energy to equal a Zippo lighter.
Back in the real world he never had any real anxieties about command. He was a damn good pilot, one of the best, and the men wanted to fly for him, believing that he had "the luck"―that indefinable ability to always bring a crew back safely.
The luck, he thought sadly. Well, that ended on a hillside back in China. Was he finished now in this new world? He couldn't control this thing called Essence for attack, while all around him his gunners and the Japanese soldiers were proving their superiority. Would he be nothing but a fifth wheel here, his ability to control the respect of his men gradually drifting away as a new leader emerged, for a new world?
He looked over at Lieutenant Younger. As if Younger were reading his thoughts, his copilot snapped out a narrow focused beam at his target, then smiled at him with a sarcastic grin, as if challenging Mark to do better. Younger turned away from him and started to speak softly to Sergeant Giorgini and the two of them laughed.
"Captain Phillips."
It was Varma, the dwarf companion and jester to Allic, who had come up to stand by Mark's side.
"How goes your training?" Varma asked in a friendly voice.
Mark was tempted to bark a sarcastic reply but realized that Varma was only trying to be friendly. He liked the jester. Some of the men thought his strange appearance amusing, but Mark had already noticed that Varma possessed a brilliant mind, and beyond all the jokes and foolish rhyming he was one of Allic's most trusted advisors.
"Oh, quite well," Mark replied quickly.
Varma looked up and smiled at him. "But of course. Well, not to worry about it, that's what I say. Anyhow, my Lord Allic requests the presence of you and Captain Ikawa, so let us go." And turning, Varma scurried over to Ikawa's side.
With a sigh of relief Mark left the firing line and followed Varma. He could not help but notice that Younger and Giorgini followed him with their gaze and continued their quiet conversation.
There would be problems with them, he was sure of that now. But being without their ability, how could he ever respond?
* * * *
"So how goes the training?"
Damn, everybody has to ask the same question, Mark thought.
"My lord Allic, your Valdez is a good trainer," Ikawa replied.
"Please, when there is no one else present, we can drop the 'my lord' routine," Allic said, a smile lighting his features. "It gets tiresome after a while. Here, have a drink."
He pointed for the two soldiers to sit by his side and handed them a couple of goblets.
"A little early for that, isn't it, my lord?" Varma inquired.
Allic gave his jester a silencing stare. "I've lived my first thousand years without too much of a problem, but apparently I still can't have a friendly drink in the morning without some lackey interfering."
"Just doing my job," Varma said.
"Then, do your job and bring Hort in here, and stop nagging me. I'm a demigod, damn it, and I should be able to take a drink without some fool dwarf interfering!"
With his hands raised in a mock display of terror, Varma backed out of the room, bowing low.
"Some people think that being the son of a god has all the advantages," Allic said, looking into his wine cup, "but let me tell you, gentlemen, it can be a downright nuisance at times. They're always checking up on you and passing down some admonishment."
Mark gave a sidelong look of amazement to Ikawa. He still wasn't used to the idea of a
As if to add insult to injury, Walker called for everyone's attention.
"Hey, watch this!"
He turned his back to a target dummy and projected an over-the-shoulder shot at his straw opponent. Valdez was all over him in an instant, but Mark decided not to intervene. He was having enough trouble just trying to work up enough energy to equal a Zippo lighter.
Back in the real world he never had any real anxieties about command. He was a damn good pilot, one of the best, and the men wanted to fly for him, believing that he had "the luck"―that indefinable ability to always bring a crew back safely.
The luck, he thought sadly. Well, that ended on a hillside back in China. Was he finished now in this new world? He couldn't control this thing called Essence for attack, while all around him his gunners and the Japanese soldiers were proving their superiority. Would he be nothing but a fifth wheel here, his ability to control the respect of his men gradually drifting away as a new leader emerged, for a new world?
He looked over at Lieutenant Younger. As if Younger were reading his thoughts, his copilot snapped out a narrow focused beam at his target, then smiled at him with a sarcastic grin, as if challenging Mark to do better. Younger turned away from him and started to speak softly to Sergeant Giorgini and the two of them laughed.
"Captain Phillips."
It was Varma, the dwarf companion and jester to Allic, who had come up to stand by Mark's side.
"How goes your training?" Varma asked in a friendly voice.
Mark was tempted to bark a sarcastic reply but realized that Varma was only trying to be friendly. He liked the jester. Some of the men thought his strange appearance amusing, but Mark had already noticed that Varma possessed a brilliant mind, and beyond all the jokes and foolish rhyming he was one of Allic's most trusted advisors.
"Oh, quite well," Mark replied quickly.
Varma looked up and smiled at him. "But of course. Well, not to worry about it, that's what I say. Anyhow, my Lord Allic requests the presence of you and Captain Ikawa, so let us go." And turning, Varma scurried over to Ikawa's side.
With a sigh of relief Mark left the firing line and followed Varma. He could not help but notice that Younger and Giorgini followed him with their gaze and continued their quiet conversation.
There would be problems with them, he was sure of that now. But being without their ability, how could he ever respond?
* * * *
"So how goes the training?"
Damn, everybody has to ask the same question, Mark thought.
"My lord Allic, your Valdez is a good trainer," Ikawa replied.
"Please, when there is no one else present, we can drop the 'my lord' routine," Allic said, a smile lighting his features. "It gets tiresome after a while. Here, have a drink."
He pointed for the two soldiers to sit by his side and handed them a couple of goblets.
"A little early for that, isn't it, my lord?" Varma inquired.
Allic gave his jester a silencing stare. "I've lived my first thousand years without too much of a problem, but apparently I still can't have a friendly drink in the morning without some lackey interfering."
"Just doing my job," Varma said.
"Then, do your job and bring Hort in here, and stop nagging me. I'm a demigod, damn it, and I should be able to take a drink without some fool dwarf interfering!"
With his hands raised in a mock display of terror, Varma backed out of the room, bowing low.
"Some people think that being the son of a god has all the advantages," Allic said, looking into his wine cup, "but let me tell you, gentlemen, it can be a downright nuisance at times. They're always checking up on you and passing down some admonishment."
Mark gave a sidelong look of amazement to Ikawa. He still wasn't used to the idea of a
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