“The result?” Lincoln asked.
“What was needed was received and taken from the battlefield,” Mary said strangely.
“And what exactly was that?” Lincoln asked his wife as he sat down at his desk.
“The strength to win a war.”
There was a knock at the door and a courier from the War Department bustled in excitement in his face. He handed a bound folder to Lincoln.
“What is it?” the President demanded as he opened the folder.
“Lee’s been thrown back with heavy losses. Our men hold the ground at Gettysburg.”
The first telegram on top of the packet, whether placed there by design or chance, was a preliminary casualty roll. Lincoln’s hands shook as he scanned the numbers. If these losses did not bring the war to a close, he wondered, what would it take?
Lieutenant Chard slid a round into the chamber of the rifle and peered over the mealie bag he was leaning against. He was very tired and wanted nothing more than to lay his head down and sleep. Even the specter of another wave of Zulu warriors charging at him could no longer bring a jolt of adrenaline to his system. He dared not put his head down. Though. because he knew he would not be able to wake. He issued orders, making sure none of the men tried to nap, because he knew they too would not be able to rise once more.
Dawn was still a couple of hours off and he did not see the sun coming up as bringing a respite. He wondered where Chelmsford and the rest of the British army were. As the minutes stretched on, he began to wonder where ne next Zulu assault was.
“I wish they would get it over with,” Bromhead said to him.
A single Zulu appeared on the outer stonewall, standing tall, with neither spear nor shield.
“What is this?” Bromhead asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Chard replied as he ordered his men not to fire. The Zulu warrior raised his hands to the sky. Then he began to chant.
“Bloody hell,” Chard muttered.
The Zulus on the other side of the wall picked up the chant.
“What the — ” Bromhead said, pointing.
A figure in white was now floating over the stonewall, slowly coming to a position in between the Zulu and British lines. It had some kind of pack on its back. but the face was featureless except for two large red bulges that might have been eyes.
“Either an angel or a demon,” Chard whispered. He turned. “Sergeant Major.”
“Sir?”
“I believe we should reply.”
“Yes, sir.”
Within seconds, the British troops were roused out of their lethargy and their voices were raised in song.
Inside the Valkyrie suit, Ahana felt goosebumps on her arms. The two sides were singing in different languages, but somehow there was a harmony to their songs. She glanced at the muonic indicator. The level of activity was rising. She turned to the northeast and headed for Isandlwana.
“Stand to,” Chamberlain ordered over the battalion frequency. He was in full armor and his weapons were loaded with live ammunition.
Glancing out the portal on the right side of his MH-90 he could see the circle of Oracles. They had not moved for over thirty hours, and the skin on the High Priestess’s face was red and blistered from exposure to the sun. Her eyes were staring vacantly, having been blinded beyond repair already.
Captain Eddings had just come from the circle and had relayed the High Priestess’s report that something was going to happen very shortly.
“Report,” Chamberlain ordered.
“Alpha company, ready.”
“Bravo company, ready.”
“Charlie company, ready.”
“Headquarters, ready.”
Chamberlain turned to the crew chief. “Seal us up.”
The back ramp slowly came up and locked in place.
Chamberlain walked over and sat down. They were ready.
“Take off,” Chamberlain ordered the pilots. The first MH-90 rose up into the sky.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Earhart came out the other end of the portal into the Space Between to be greeted by a splash of water from Rachel’s tail. The dolphin immediately took off and Earhart followed, moving in the Valkyrie suit after her. She saw right away where Rachel was headed — the massive Shadow sphere floated in the water directly ahead, half submerged. With the skull case firmly in hand, Earhart reached the sphere. Rachel splashed her tail once more in approval and then raced off on some other task.
Earhart knew the way now. She floated up to the top and entered the split where the petals of metal were slightly parted. Then she descended through the open top half where the Shadow had captured ships and planes during forays into her timeline. A sphere like this, maybe even this one, had captured her and her plane during her attempt to fly around the world.
She went down a tunnel to the power room. The mummified bodies of the crew of the Nautilus were grim reminders of the cost of this war as they occupied their niches around the circumference of the room. Remaining in the suit for protection, Earhart opened the case.
The skulls were still glowing as brightly as they had on the battlefield. She took them, one by one, in the claws that extended from the Valkyrie suit hands to the niches at the same level as the central power globe. As she placed the ninth in place, the glow from the skulls increased, filling the chamber. Lines of power shot from one skull to the other, then all nine linked with the power globe.
The sphere was ready.
Earhart headed for the command center.
As she enclosed herself in the pilot pod, she felt a strong presence close by.
“Dane?”
I’m here.
The voice was inside her head but Earhart automatically scanned the controls and panel on the inside of the pilot pod. There was no one else on board the sphere. “Where are you?”
I’m here. I’m still on the psychometric plane. I opened the gate for you.
“What now?” Earhart asked. She felt slightly foolish to be speaking to empty air but given all that had happened it was pretty much par for the course.
We have the power. Now we get the force.
Chamberlain was almost thrown across the cargo bay of the MH-90 as it banked hard right. He heard the excited voices of the pilots, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Stabilizing himself, he made his way to the cockpit.
It wasn’t hard to miss what had caused both the maneuver and the excitement as a large black column, over a mile wide, had appeared over what had once been the southern tip of Manhattan.
“Arm weapons,” Chamberlain ordered the pilots and then the order was relayed to all the other planes. The forty-millimeter cannon underneath the nose of the plane was · aimed at the gate and missiles under each wings were armed.
Something was coming out of the portal. It took a few seconds and then Chamberlain recognized it — a Shadow sphere. He had seen imagery of them taken during the Shadow War. It was his worst fears coming true — the Final Assault was the Shadow coming to this timeline, not them going to the Shadow.
“All elements. We will attack in echelon,” Chamberlain ordered. “I want Alpha and Bravo companies to hold in case the sphere opens, and then try to get inside and deploy. Charlie company will attack at — ”