Chương 88: Chapter Eighty Eight

William sat in the middle of the cinema watching Star Wars play out in front of him. The originals, of course. Idly, he took a sip of his drink, enjoying the pleasant bubbly burn of glorious carbonation that only coca-cola could replicate. Of course, none of it was real. But in dreams, that distinction didn't matter much. What was real were the two hands holding his. Clarice's fingers were laced through his left hand, warm and solid. Marcille's grip on his right was firmer, almost possessive.

Honestly, he was surprised he'd not thought of this himself. Dream Date Night. A way for them to stretch out their honeymoon just that little bit longer, even if they were relentlessly busy in the waking world. And they got to get a little more insight into who he was. Or who he had been once upon a time. As well as the world he came from. Needless to say, they'd been impressed with what they'd seen thus far.

Though they'd put up some small resistance to being dragged off to watch a 'play', as he'd described it to them, when there were so many more interesting sights to be seen. After all, Lindholm had plays. It didn't have cars, trains or motorbikes. Fortunately, those complaints had very quickly died out the moment a Star Destroyer appeared on screen. … Though he had snickered a bit at being forced to specify that no, Earth didn't actually have a Star War and that the movie was fictional.

Still, their momentary disappointment had done nothing to keep them from watching raptly as George Lucas's magnum opus played on screen. Placing his drink down, he once more moved to grip the hand on his right once more over their shared armrest. A hand that gripped him back. And perhaps it was something about the low-lighting, the last few days, or the way he felt Clarice snuggle into his shoulder, but he felt himself going in for a kiss.

A move that died a death quite quickly the moment he turned to actually look at his date. One of the great advantages of being Harrowed was that his ability to construct his dream place was perfect. Their were none of the imperfections or flaws inherent in a world crafted from a dreamer's sleeping mind that could make sharing the space with others downright dangerous if the 'host's' mind wandered. At least so long as his dreams focused on reliving spaces from his previous life.

If he were to try to recreate something from his current one, it would be as flawed as anyone else's. Oh, and he also generally needed to keep his eyes and mind on whatever he wanted to stay… well, tangible. The world only existed insofar as he was aware of it. If he closed his eyes and let his mind wander… well, things would get unpleasant for Clarice and Marcille rather fast as they would be momentarily cast into what was effectively a void.

Given that would be rather counter-productive to his goal of enjoying his date, he was making sure to always try staying cognizant of his surroundings. He found it helped to be inside. He found that being constantly aware of being in a 'room' was a lot easier than trying to keep the entire 'world' in his mind. Which was part of why the two next to him could enjoy the movie without sinking into nothingness the moment he took his eyes off them to look at the screen. Or enjoy a drink. Or lean over for a kiss…

Unfortunately, the thing in the seat next to him was not Clarice – even if it was. It was a subconscious manifestation of how she saw herself in her own subconscious. With all the Freudian fuckery that implied. As such, rather than a cute half elf girl, he instead found himself looking at a tall, black furred thing with two canine heads. One head was watching the movie, while the other had turned slightly toward him, ears perked as he turned to look at her. Now, William was not ignorant of the idea of furries.

Even as a cranky old man, he'd not been ignorant of some of the… more peculiar side of the internet. He'd had little interest. Dying and being reborn had done little to change that. … It was a bit of a struggle not to cringe. Something the creature – or rather Clarice – clearly didn't fail to notice as she snickered.

"It's fine," she said – voice surprisingly normal - likely having guessed his original plan and his aborting of it.

"I appreciate the thought. And if it helps, supposedly we'll get better at seeing ourselves less… metaphorically the more we do this." Still, her words compelled him to leaned over anyway and pressed a kiss to the side of the nearer head's cheek. The fur was soft. There were also whiskers. …He tried very hard not to think about either. Pulling back, he did smile a bit at the way the creature blushed. Both sets of ears flicked back, and a low, embarrassed sound rumbled in its chest.

"Oh," Clarice chirped bashfully.

"Well, if you're not that bothered by it, we could still, you know, experiment? I know how I look, but I think old-you looks rather dapper." The creature smiled at him and William blanched.

"No," he said, before mastering himself.

"Maybe we should just enjoy the movie?" One of Clarice's heads let out a small huff that might have been laughter. Before she could reply, Marcille's voice cut in from his left, low and irritated.

"Yeah. You can fuck later. Right now I'm trying to enjoy the play. So shut up," she hissed. Both he and Clarice snickered at the younger sister's words, but nonetheless dutifully fell silent, allowing the sound of TIE fighters on screen go undiminished by conversation. Clarice's grip on his hand tightened just slightly though. It was… nice.

Nearly two weeks on from that date night and William had been in the middle of reviewing the latest production reports when the twins descended on him. Together the pair had half-dragged, half-marched him out of his workshop with the kind of cheerful determination usually reserved for dragging a reluctant child to a family gathering. Bonnyln – the traitor! – hadn't even tried to stop them. Marline was off with her family. Olzenya was… doing whatever she did when she wasn't with him.

Verity was helping her family settle into their second granted plot.

"You can afford to dip out for an hour," Marcille said in response to his grumbling.

"And the Queen has politely requested your presence for this unveiling."

"As does your duchess," Clarice said, gripping his other arm as the pair guided him through a guarded checkpoint.

"Olivia will also be there. She's been looking forward to seeing you." William rolled his eyes, but didn't argue – even as he tucked one of the sheets of paper he'd been working on into his pocket. Said sheet of paper being a report that Piper had finally reached a level of production for both explosives and rocket fuel that would hopefully keep up with Tyana current demands. Demands which were fairly high, given her ongoing skirmishing with the Northern invaders over the past two weeks.

Unfortunately, the Shriekers had not seem the same level of success they'd had in their first outing since, even when supplemented by rockets. Though that wasn't to say they'd suddenly become ineffective or anything. Far from it. The North had lost six more ships since he'd had that meeting with her. Five of which were down by Shriekers. Though, to be fair, in that time they'd also managed to capture two castles, destroyed one Royal Navy and two Southshore vessels in return.

Honestly, William had no idea how many Shards each side had lost, but it was likely considerable. With that said, they'd also managed to shoot down one of the North's new Banshees – as the surviving pilot of the craft revealed the new craft were named. Though not counting the downed one, the initial prototype had unfortunately grown into a formation of four – which while much improved over said prototype, still seemed inferior to the South's Shriekers. Did you know this story is from Royal Road?

Read the official version for free and support the author. Though it was hard to tell given the first real clash between Super-Shards had yet to occur. Ironically, neither command seemed willing to risk some of their most valuable and vulnerable assets against a peer opponent. It was only a matter of time, though. Which was exactly why William needed to be working on the Firecracker, along with about a hundred other projects that were all currently sitting half-finished on his desk.

Instead, he was being forced to sit in the garden of the Summerfield manse, ignoring the announcement of his and the twins arrival by the… woman who's job it was to do that whose role he could never remember the name of. The space was large enough to function as a soccer pitch, which meant it comfortably held the small army of nobles, officers, guards, and servants who had gathered for the event. As well as his younger sister – who was trying to look prim and proper as she sat at the table.

"Hello Olivia," he said as he sat down.

"I'm sorry I've not been able to see you much lately." The girl smiled.

"It's fine, I know you're doing husband things now." … William didn't know what she meant by that. Well, he had some idea, but he hoped he didn't. So instead he focused on something else entirely. Well, at least there's food, he thought as he eyed the collection of finger sandwiches arrayed on the small table that had been set up for them. He'd forgotten to eat lunch, so at least this whole thing wouldn't be a total waste of time if he could fill his belly while… whatever it was Yelena was unveiling got unveiled.

Glancing around, he was amused to note that the other tables present before the stage were occupied by nobles, but none were quite as fancy as the one he was sat at. Such was the advantage that came with being married to a duchess on whom's territory this whole affair was being conducted. Even the representative from Southshore was sat at a table whose decorations implied just a slightly lower standing than that of the Summerfield.

He ignored both twins fairly smug looks as he tore into the food and glanced up at the stage. The queen was standing beside two van-sized objects hidden beneath white sheets. The raised position of his table meant he could see a pipe running from the base of one of the covered shapes to a large reinforced box nearby. A box from within which he could feel the unmistakable aura of an active Ship-Core. Likewise, he could sense a myriad other enchantments woven into whatever was hidden beneath the fabric.

Some magic boondoggle then, he thought dismissively. Finally, after a few more minutes of people gathering and being seated, Yelena stepped forward and the crowd quieted almost immediately.

"Thank you all for being here," she began.

"I know we are all busy so I shall not weary us all with pointless pageantry or long speeches. The time for that has long passed. As, it seems, has the role of airships as the undisputed apex predator of the skies. The Shard has grown as, if not a peer, then a threat. Once merely an annoyance or a distraction, advances not just in metallurgy, but alchemy, have outfitted these small craft with the means to damage or destroy their larger cousins.

This reality has only grown more apparent over the past few months – first with the cowardly attack on our capital less than two months ago, and the timely rise of artificial-shards, but also in recent days with the creation of the worlds first Super-Shard. Unfortunately for all of us, that is a feat our enemies have chosen to emulate." For not wanting a long speech, she's certainly waxing on a bit, he thought – though he was wise enough not to voice it.

"With that said, the Airship is not done yet. Just as the Shard have adapted to threaten the mightiest behemoths of the skies, those same behemoths have now adapted the means with which to swat the upstarts who dare challenge them." She reached up and pulled down the first sheet with much flourish. And William's eyes widened as he found himself staring at a quad-mounted barreled AA mounted to pneumatic swivel base.

Honestly to his eyes the whole contraption looked remarkably similar to an old WW2 M45 Quad mount from his own world. The kind that tended to be mounted to half-tracks or used as towable static AA. It even had a shield in roughly the same spot – albeit with far more decoration on said shield than he'd have ever seen on an old army design.

"This is the new 'Hydra' system," Yelena announced.

"Designed to be mounted on the deck of a ship or suspended beneath the hull as needed. While designed as an effective deterrent to Shard attack, it also provides superior protection against boarding attempts." There was a hum of interest from the crowd at her words, but that sound was reduced to silence as the Queen gave the signal and one of her royal guard stepped up to climb onto the thing's gunnery seat.

Instantly, the Hydra whirred to life, the mount traversing smoothly on its pneumatic mounts, before it opened fire into the air. The rapid hiss of the four aether-cannons punctuating the launching of bolts across the skies in controlled bursts. It fired for a few minutes before stopping, having spent all its ammo. And almost instantly several nobles started to clap. Clarice leaned in from William's left.

"We helped with the traversal system," she whispered proudly.

"It's the same pneumatic setup we developed for the Basilisk's turret." They sounded damn proud – and he could understand why.

"That's…. Damn impressive," he said earnestly. And he was impressed. Though to be honest, part of him thought it odd something like this hadn't already been invented. Shards already had repeater-aether cannons. Then again, as Yelena stated, the ability for Shards to actually threaten airships was a fairly recent phenomena, brought about by advances in alchemy. … He was reasonably certain Piper had talked to him about that once. Something she'd done before she was guild master?

Turning his attention back to the situation at hand, he noted his two wives – and it still felt strange to think that - beamed proudly, but anything else they might have been said was cut-off as a noble near the front raised her hand.

"Your Majesty, if I may - the aether draw on something like this must be considerable. Will it not impact a ship's ability to remain aloft, especially when the core is already powering cannons, propellers, and ballasts?" Yelena smiled, having clearly expected the question.

"So long as the system is not fired continuously, the aether draw is roughly equivalent to two conventional deck cannons. Given the current threat posed by shards, we believe that is a small price to pay." She paused, before smirking.

"Of course," Yelena continued, "if aether consumption remains a concern – as it might be for our largest and heaviest airships, we have an alternative." She moved to the second covered object and pulled the sheet away. This one looked similar to the Hydra at first glance - same quad-barrel arrangement - but it lacked the pneumatic traversal system. Instead, it had a pair of prominent handcranks on either side. More importantly, William could sense no core inside it at all.

Several other people in the crowd leaned forward as well. Yelena gave another signal as a second guardswoman stepped forward and the weapon began firing. Instead of the sharp hiss of aether discharge, it produced a far more familiar bang with each shot. One that that sounded remarkably like a conventional machine gun. Once more, he watched the gun continue to fire for a full minute before running out of ammo. A different noble called out, "How does it function without aether? Is it similar to the Corsairs?"

The exact means by which Corsairs worked was still something of a secret to anyone not directly involved in their operation or manufacture, so William could understand the confusion. But he also knew that no, no one had pilfered his stockpile of brownings to make the AA gun on stage. Because there were no ejected shell casings when it fired. Also, the sound it made was familiar. Very familiar. And while it was close to that of a conventional machine gun, it wasn't. … So where did he know that sound from?

Yelena smiled.

"It is not. Though I understand the confusion. With every 'Gun' needed for the Corsair project, as we prepare for our inevitable counter-offensive, those brave mage-smiths who worked on this project instead to innovate in a different direction." Smiling, she reached out and almost instantly a bolt was placed into her hand by one of her guards.

"Those of you familiar with the enchanted ammo belts used by our shards will recognise the principle at work here - though these function differently. Rather than exploding on contact with an enemy craft, the base of each bolt is designed to react when it is struck by specific alchemically treated steel. A small, contained explosion occurs at the point of contact, driving the bolt out of the barrel at considerable force." William felt his eyebrows rise. That was where he knew that sound from!

Spell-bolts, he thought. God, he'd come up with that concept as a way to bend the rules on offensive magic in the academy and get a little kudos from the crown. He'd used it to help break off his engagement with Tala – and then immediately forgotten about it. And why wouldn't he? It'd been a parlor trick. Inferior in just about every way compared to actual firearms. Or so he'd though. Because there was one area it was better. Ease of production in a mage-based manufacturing base.

And clearly Yelena – or more likely someone in her employ – had seen that too. Was he… was he too dismissive of magic? Of course, before he could dwell on that too long, Olivia, turned around to Marcille with a confused expression.

"What? So they've got to get someone to enchant every round? That… that doesn't seem very good. I know the Queen has a lot of knights, but that seems… not good." She said the last part quietly, as if afraid to be overheard slandering something presented by the Queen. Though William was less concerned by that, and more on the fact that his sister was asking his wives about this whole thing instead of him? So, before Marcille could respond, William leaned forward slightly.

"When you enchant something, the enchantment generally remains until the magic is spent fulfilling whatever effect it was created for. For something like a cannonball, that usually means exploding on impact."

"Right," Marcille said, taking up the rest of the answer before he could and sending an amused glance William's way.

"The other way an object can lose its enchantment is if the initial object itself is broken in some way significant. A chip won't do much, but breaking a part off will." She mimed doing exactly that, holding up both hands.

"What's interesting though, is that if you do that, both pieces carry a bit of that initial enchantment with them. And while the magic will fade, you usually have about an hour before it fully seeps away. Now, that kind of thing wouldn't be too useful for something like a lantern where you want it to glow for a long time, but for something you're going to 'use up'. It can be quite useful." Olivia scrunched in thought, before she realized.

"Like an ammo belt." Clarice smiled, joining in.

"Exactly. That's how enchanted ammo belts are made. You cast the full enchantment you want across an entire linked belt of rounds, then break the links connecting them. Sure, you get a weaker effect from each individual round, but you can enchant a lot more enchanted ammunition with a single spell charge."

"Oh?" Olivia said.

"Why don't we do that with cannon balls? Mom always has me enchant some before I go to bed, and it's lame." William smiled faintly and reached over to ruffle her hair.

"Like they said squirt, you get a lesser effect if you break it. Cannonballs usually have multiple enchantments layered on them because they're designed to break through ship armor. Having more but shittier ones would be less useful than just a few that are more powerful." Olivia barely heard him, squawking in protest as swatted at his hand, but he was barely paying attention. Instead, his eyes drifted to a woman watching him from nearby.

Tyana – and as he watched, she inclined her head subtly toward the backstage area. Sighing, he stood up.

"Sorry ladies, it seems I need to have a quick chat with someone." He'd been wondering when his little 'defiance' regarding the Firecracker would come up. Honestly, he'd thought it might come to nothing after the first week. It seemed he'd been wrong – and glancing at the stage, he had to wonder if that had been because they'd been getting ready to unveil the 'Hydras' on stage. A point was being made through them. He just needed to figure out what that point was.