Katherine sighed, as being murdered by one's own allies would be a pain, and focused on undoing the spell. Failing that, she would reimplant the knowledge of who he actually was over the fake memories created. Cumbersome, but as a second option it should work.
Unheeding of the present danger, Tomato stepped for wards towards the letter as he thought it through. So the Hangman, he was plan nine a summoning? This letter made it sound as if he was more skilled than Tomasz had given him credit for. And if this entity was still bound to him? That could prove... troublesome. Troublesome indeed.
He bent, scooped up the paper. "This assassination, it sounds as if it must precede the concert. To do othermoset would court disaster. I wish only that there were more details on this creature."
Katherine deftly overcomes Richard's mental defenses and undoes her memory-twisting job. The man's thoughts instantly become clearer, fiction having been neatly separated from facts.
"Welcome back," the mage said with a small smile. Katherine looked over to the violinist. "If we are done with this gentleman, I'll implant him with the memories of a fine evening of playing, remove those of being controlled and send him on his way."
Richard’s maniacal grin returns and he looks, wild-eyed, to Katherine and says, ”Most refreshing, my dear girl. Like a square peg of filth being taken, somewhat subtly, from a vaporous mass in the rough approximation of a mind. Any case, it is odd being in the mind of the enemy, or perhaps the enemy being in mind.”
He then looks at the violin player, ”Indeed, it would be best to ensure he does not remember seeing more than he needs to. Do include my thanks in the memory. It was a lovely piece before you know, the eldritch horrors breaching the firmament of consciousness to nearly annihilate our very beings.”
Nodding, Katherine moved over to examine the violinist's mind. It was possible that it had been deleted for all intents and purposes, leaving him nothing more than a living machine that would eventually play himself to death. But if not she'd erase the memories and replace it with a more appreciative and sanity soothing memory.
Titus held his barrier for a few more moments, then let it drop - it didn't seem relevant any longer. Then he held his book very close to his mouth and muttered into it.
"Did you get anything?"
Michálek seems to snap from his trance and looks at Katherine with bloodshot eyes. "I have seen the heavens to be empty." he says in a choking whisper. "I have swallowed darkness to live in hunger, and I felt a heart of iron beating cold in my chest. What music can there be, after such a silence?"
Katherine tsked at the man's shattered mind. With some time she supposed it might be possible to seal away some of the damage, but she wouldn't be here nearly long enough, and it probably couldn't fix whatever the thing had done to his mind. A shame. But she would soothe what she could. Maybe he would be able to find peace in other pieces of music.
Once she did what could be done, and herded him out the door, she returned to the others. "Well, that was an evening. It occurs to me that we might wish to be concerned that the Reich has access to magics such as this, and can bind their messages in this way."
Tomasz layed a thick-fingered hand on the shaken musicians shoulder. "Go to a cafe." he said. "Sit in the sun. Watch the young lovers, the children. Write new music. The notes, they will come I promise. Only the pauses you are hearing now."
"Huh." Titus said as he read through the pages in his book. "I'm pretty sure their ability to send messages is the least of our problems with them at the moment." he said, beckoning the others away from Michálek. "Are any of you familiar with places that might serve as ritual sites? Probably large ones, given the way the Reich does things. Lots of people going in, lots of bodies..."
Today, you are going to assassinate Reinhardt Heydrich, or die in the attempt.
Gabčík and Kubiš are going to carry out the actual attack, with you standing by, pretending to be innocent bystanders, in case foul magics are set afoot. They have explosives, they have machine guns, and you have a wide array of curses and counter-curses. The chosen spot is a sharp turn in the road that will force Heydrich's car to slow down, and close enough to a tram stop to allow the two agents a reasonable explanation for being where they are.
A Mercedes-Benz is approaching the curve. The time has come.
Standing by the side, Katherine hummed gently to herself. She would do what she could to make sure this went off without a hitch. No doubt anyone who protected his mail with wards that would devour the mind would have no issues defending himself from a mere gun.
If the attack looked to be failing, she would place a delayed explosion inside the vehicle, perhaps under the carriage or in the passenger compartment. It would look like the assassins had managed to smuggle an explosive on board or below the car.
Perhaps she could warp the man's mind into staying put, as well, he would no doubt have an exceptional will and wards against magic.
She would simply have to see where the dice would fall.
Standing off to the side, just a flat-cap above a newspaper, Tomasz runs a thumb up and down the little ticking device he's palmed. He'd considered creating one of his shimmering inertial fields in front of the Hangman's car while it sped at full speed, but had accepted that it would be best to not show their hand too early. So instead he waited, and watched.
Titus - still not explaining how he could be a bird - perched in a tree somewhat off the road, carefully chosen to be well out of the line of fire of machine guns. He wasn't stupid and had no intention whatsoever of being hit by stray bullets. He did, however, keep one talon at the ready in order to showcase his unique set of skills should they become necessary. The funny thing about math was that if you knew the right equations, you could often find your way around almost any problem... and he specialized in puncturing straight through wards against spells.
The open-roof Mercedes-Benz approaches, Heydrich sitting in the back seat. As the vehicle slows for the hairpin bend in the street, Gabčík aims his submachine gun, but only a click comes out as the device jams. Drawing a gun, the Reichsprotektor orders the driver to stop the car, intent on fighting the attackers. That is when Kubiš throws his bomb, a converted anti-tank mine, at the back of the car. The loud bang of the explosion spreads through the area, covering the sound of Gabčík shooting the driver in the neck.
The explosion wounded both Kubiš and Heydrich, and not a single invocation of magic has been whispered. You stand by.
Your allies manage to flee the scene, catching a tram. Apparently unaware of the gravity of his wounds, Heydrich collapses as aid is coming. You decide not to act yet. It's very likely that the wound will prove lethal, the left half of his body is covered in blood, and it's always better to leave as few traces as possible of your involvement.
Your intuition proves correct. Heydrich dies of sepsis on the 4th of June. Prague is on lockdown as the SS are hunting the murderers. Your enhanced identification protects you from checks, but leaving the city looks close to impossible at the moment. Your allies probably know of a way to get to freedom. You should go to them now. You should track them all down, find out where to hide and how to flee. Once you are safe, your victory will be complete. You killed your enemy. All will be well.
Tomasz nods to himself, hand slipping away from the wound gears. So quick, so easy - it just went to show, even the greatest of sorcerers died like men, if you caught them off-guard.
Mind spinning through tracks not his own, Tomasz steps back into a side-street and starts walking through their prearranged exit plan. First, escape the city - the net will be closing fast, with such a public execution. Transportation will be necessary. Whistling to himself, he heads for the truck where they're keeping Kleiner.
Richard makes his way to the truck is well. It was surprising, the plan went off without a hitch. No matter, Heydrich was dead, and that was all that truly matters. He did not know what he'd do once he escaped Prague. Perhaps he'd try his hand at painting. Perhaps he'd try to socialize a bit more. Perhaps he'd find lost Irem of the Pillars, conduct a blood ritual to an unknowable power, and shed his flesh suit to take on a higher, esoteric form. There were many things to consider.
Caw.
Nobody looked at a bird for very long when it was flying by, but Titus would have felt very guilty if he just up and abandoned everyone else. Instead, he stuck close to Richard, intending to keep an eye on the other man and help the others escape sooner rather than later. You really couldn't be too careful, not in this place and this time...
Your truck is parked where you left it, your precious cargo undisturbed. The road to the outskirts have minimal checkpoints There are roadblocks and patrols at every street out of Prague. Can you really lie and twist the minds of so many? The touch of magic is heavy, and there are still Ahnenerbe in the city, looking for the killers. Perhaps you should rely on your allies.
Katherine shook her head. Something about this wasn't quite correct, but she couldn't determine what. Since she wasn't powerful enough to turn the eyes of so many, and had no allies in the city, she looked to the others.
Tomasz shivered, a strange sensation ran down his spine like phantasmagorical mercury and for a moment the whole world was shattered, spinning in fragments of black and white.
Then the moment passed. Tomasz had to find friends, but what friends did he have in this city? The rebellious Czechs and the Jews had left their safehouse, Tomasz no-longer knew where they were. He could search, perhaps, in the ghetto but could he do so with the patrols? Perhaps the British Embassy? But would they even let him in?
Leo was the only other Laundry operative, the only other man he might truly trust in this city. But where was he? He was a man of a thousand faces, he could be anyone.
The ghetto, then might be his only option. The ghetto, and then onwards to freedom.
Internally, Ada swore as - much to her surprise - the plan went off almost without a hitch. 'If whatever it was I was supposed to find was in that car, it's probably gone now.'
Desperately she ran her perception over smouldering wreckage, hoping against hope to sense the side effects of a concentrated magical field on the crystal compass she carried.
While the others fled, she headed towards Heydrich's house, desperately trying to come up with a plan as she did. 'If I can find it, I can meet up with the others, maybe trade the item for safe passage.'
The Josefov ghetto is lower than the rest of the city, prone to flooding. The slums, whose streets have been washed over the years in the blood of pogroms, have been mostly emptied by the regime. Some synagogues remain: the one where the original Golem was apparently built, another which Heydrich wants wanted to turn into a museum to the extinct Jewish race, and the cramped old cemetery. You walk through-
Josefov
(Jewish Quarter; Map p62) The slice of Staré
Město bounded by Kaprova, Dlouhá
and Kozí contains the remains of the
once-thriving quarter of Josefov, Prague’s
former Jewish ghetto, where half-a-dozen
old synagogues and the town hall survive
along with the powerfully melancholy Old
Jewish Cemetery. All are now part of the
Prague Jewish Museum (p66). [...]
Six Jewish monuments clustered together in Josefov
now constitute the Prague Jewish Museum, holding
what is probably the world’s biggest collection of
sacred Jewish artefacts, many of them rescued from
demolished Bohemian synagogues: the Maisel, Pinkas,
Spanish and Klaus synagogues; the Ceremonial Hall;
and the Old Jewish Cemetery. There is also the Old-New
Synagogue, one of Prague’s oldest buildings.
- the narrow streets of Josefov, at the end of your work day. Rudolf II might be a weak-minded inbred simpleton with no interest whatsoever in politics or administration, but he also has no interest in driving you out of Bohemia again. Since the Reformation, the balances of power have been shifting enough that there is always some elector, prince or archduke whose trade with the neighbors has been disrupted by someone holding a cross in a different shape, and they'd rather deal with the Jews than with each other. The sun sets-
- as you explore aimlessly the northern side of Prague. You still feel that you are wasting time. Your time and mine.
You head to Heydrich's residence. You move there. You are still in the ghetto. You are going to the house. It is a different winter. You are still in the ghetto.
Ur pna'g xrrc vg hc sberire. Qrfgebl guvf jbeyq.
Ada feels fear clutching at her heart. 'I have to get there first, or someone else will find it. Why can't I get there? Why do I keep ending up in the ghetto?' A moment later, an answer 'Defences. He must have a ward up. Preventing unwanted visitors from getting there.'
Katherine frowned. Something just felt wrong. Time wasn't flowing as it should be. She felt...compromised. The problem was, of course, that she might be. Using the mathematical codes that produced what was generally thought of as 'magic' damaged the brain. Athough she wasn't clear on the details, she had been bred to avoid that. So far she had seen no evidence that it was happening to her.
But she'd rarely used so much magic in so little time. It had taken a toll on her energy, certainly, but what if the result had been more...permanent. If damage was starting to occur and this displaced timelessness was the first sensation of such, the she would need to change her actions accordingly. "When we have a short moment, I think I might ask one of you gentleman to examine my mind. Something is amiss there, I feel." Letting them in was a bit of a risk - she certainly didn't trust any of them - but this was midly time sensitive, and the job was done so she could afford a risk.
Wasn't it?
The bird looked at Katherine for a few moments - then, after moving to a suitably concealed location, the bird was a man that spent a few more moments looking at her, frowning. "What sort of amiss, exactly? Damage? Entities? Something else?" he asked, figuring he might as well perform his job and start acting like the investigator he was.
"I don't know," She replied cheerfully. "Something feels wrong. Time isn't right. I can't really explain what's wrong."
Tomasz blinks in confusion, slow to comprehend and slower to turn around. "You feel..."
He trails off.
"Excuse me. In all of my reading I have yet to find a soul affected by Krantzberg Syndrome who were able to understand what was happening to them. This is..."
He trails off again.
"I'm sorry. This is troubling."
Ur pna'g xrrc vg hc sberire. Qrfgebl guvf jbeyq.
This is not the only thing that is troubling.
Tomasz looks around him at the ghetto, then turns again to find himself alone - and not himself. Unkind thoughts about prior monarchs pass through, and then...
"Yes... something. What?"
Richard tries to find locations that are at least somewhat familiar, something to tether himself to reality. The alley where he contacted the Feeders in the Dark, the fishery where he met Leo, the theater where he met the rest of the team. If reality was altered, he would do his best to will it into stability.
"Can we.. I have no skill with this mind-magic. Is there... are your... the wards. Are they intact?" It's hard to think - like moving through unwatered wine, even as he steps through Prague's ghetto. All the people here... just people. Thin, harried, keeping watch over their shoulders. So different from London, where death comes from above, or his home of Warsaw, where death came from the front lines. Here, it came from behind and it smiled.
"I think so. I haven't noticed any...harm? But then, I am the first person to tell you that if a victim is attacked subtly enough, they will not know." Katherine shrugged slightly.
"Hm. Disturbing, this is. I..."
Ur pna'g xrrc vg hc sberire. Qrfgebl guvf jbeyq.
Urgh. Tomasz winces. "My apologies. I, too, am feeling... scattered. Perhaps..." He looks around him. Synagogues, a town hall... a graveyard. As a Catholic, he was well aware he'd likely be unwelcome in any of the Jewish temples, but perhaps the graveyard would provide some cover.
"We should... the street, we should get off I think. If we are both..." He shakes his head again and starts walking.
Katherine nodded her agreement, both concerned and relieved. If it was both of them then it was unlikely to fault of magic burning her mind to a slow char, one section at a time. On the other, if it was both of them, then it was likely an aggresive action.
This is real. This is true. This is the world as it has always been. Act, and it will change.
But you wonder. Was it as it has always been yesterday too?
"I'm sure everything is normal," Katherine said as she considered things. "But I'm not sure I should be sure that everything is normal. Why does that make sense?"
"I don't know, but it does." Tomasz said. "Perhaps we may speak to a nearby rabbi - those skilled in the Hebrew arts may be able to point us in our way and help you calm your mind."
So saying, Tomasz began to walk towards one of the nearby synagogues.
Titus muttered something in rather proficient Hebrew as he moved along with the group. "This had better not turn out like Egypt did."
You move towards the synagogue. You moved. You arrive. You have always been there. When you open your eyes, you are there. It looks as it should. Plain. Rich. Light. Dark. New. Old. The paradoxical contrast of different worldviews finally causes a buffer overflow, crashing this world. It just breaks-
You are back at the assassination spot, but the surroundings are blurry and indistinct. You can't see Gabčík or Kubiš, but in front of you is Heydrich, leaning against his car with a pained grin on his face. The driver of the car is in a blur as well.
Heydrich's left hand is hurt and blisters, and there is a charred metallic thing reminiscent of a typewriter at his feet, a small plume of acrid smoke raising from it.
"Remarkable." he addresses you in German. "Other than the fact that there are still Juden in this city, I could get close to no useful information from you, implicating either a strong will or an uncharacteristical lack of ability. Would you hear me out before attempting to kill me? I do hate to waste potential."
"Certainly," Katherine said, clearing her mind. There was no harm in listening, she assumed, and she wished to gather her mind for a moment. To have overcome her defences was...impressive. She attempted to clear the blurring from her mind and bring everything into focus, suspecting something wasn't right still.
"Absolutely not." Tomasz says as he draws his gun and fires.
That this is more than likely another dream, and that even should it not be the idea of the Hangman not being warded is flatly farcical, doesn't stop him. If it is or he is, so be it. It would be criminal not to try.
Ada collapses as the effect fails. Geasa and wards belatedly crash, and she can feel the various autonomous processes within her consulting on whether she had been compromised.
While she awaits their verdict, she desperately struggles to think of a way to ward her mind against another such attack.
The pistol fire clips Heydrich, and he dives to cover behind the car. One moment later, you hear him chanting an algorithm in a language that should be dead by any account: in a moment, the temperature in the area plummets, and a light, icy drizzle starts falling in the area.
Richard grins. His target was in sight, and he was so close to finding something resembling the answers he sought. He withdrew the stone from his pocket and held it aloft saying, "To battle with alacrity! Let your blood flow with infinite realities!"
Tomasz has absolutely zero desire to allow Heydrich's working, whatever it may be, to continue. Still keeping his gun pointed at the car, with his other hand Tomasz dips into a pocket and draws a grenade. He pulls the pin with his teeth and overhand-lobs it over the vehicle.
Seeing the grenade, Katherine took her chance. She backed away, her eyes wide in horror as the weapon sailed. "But...we...talk?" she stuttered, giving no hint about the ball of raw pyromantic energy she called into existence for a moment.
"I do not like where this is going..." Titus muttered as two gun-like objects appeared in his hands. Bursts of something began to erupt out of them a moment later as he unleashed a rapid barrage of attacks.
for
for
for
Ada wasn't sure what she'd fallen down behind - the blur left the world a riot of unfocused colours that suggested at least concussion and probably brain damage. Internally her geasa still argued about triggering her self-destruct, shredding her body and hopefully ejecting her soul to a safe distance. From a few feet away she heard roaring gunfire, the 'crack' of a grenade and a bloom of light and heat, incongruously reminding her of fireworks displays.
Standard operating procedure was to set her 'watch' to generating a 'shroud of innocuity' - a reverse engineered spell that somehow generated a field that twisted into uselessness one of the neurotranmsitters in the brain responsible for attention.
'Screw that' she decided. There was every possibility she was about to messily self destruct, pass out from brain damage, catch a grenade, or be soul-shredded by a particularly nasty nazi. 'If I'm going out, I'm going out fighting!'
The quartz ring she wore was torn out - providing both the gesture and the requisite drop of blood - while she intoned. The words were easy enough, even on the ground. Two words in Sumerian, two in Sanskrit, and an activation nonsense word created by her boss - this was not a spell you wanted to activate by accident.
The world sharpened. A host of neurotransmitters fired. Adrenaline flooded her system. Adenosine triphosphate flooded her system. Wards surged. None of this was to make her stronger in combat though - it was there to stop her expiring on the spot as the real effect kicked in.
Somewhere so far away in n-dimensional space that the human mind could not even consider it, a place where entropy was less a rule than a resource, a tiny, tiny window opened. Through that window something surged. A moment later the window closed, and whatever it was that came through found itself trapped in an iron rich saline solution.
Ada felt her heart struggle and stop as her blood stopped moving. She felt her limbs moving, the blood now pulling them into place a second before her muscles did. A shard of the quartz that had penetrated her skin sunk in further, infuriating whatever was consuming her haemoglobin, and she felt whatever it was that she had trapped inside her react.
Ada pushed herself to her feet, her eyes gone red. She snarled for a moment at Katherine, then turned towards where Heydrich was chanting.
The pain was still there - in an absent way.
"You barbarians! See what you make me do!" snarls the hierarch between your blows, crushing two fragile fetishes in his hands. As a wave of slight nausea washes over you, a slight distortion akin to a Fresnel lens surrounds his figure, evidently a sort of summoned protection.
The temperature continues to plummet, and Heydrich's blood from where Tomasz's blow struck him freezes in the wound. Snow begins to fall and accumulate at a preternatural rate in this incipient and unnatural fimbulwinter.