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He nods, trying to make the comment look casual.
“As best as we can spread the new strategy to so many in so little time. We’ll know soon enough if it’s worked.”
“A new plan?” asks Josef. “Why have you changed your attack so close to battle?”
He’s suspicious. I don’t have to be able to touch his mind to see that.
Semyazah says, “Because Mason Faim is no longer a part of this battle. You are. That changes how we deploy our troops.”
“And how is that, General?”
“Heaven knows we’re coming, but they don’t know about you. As the Kissi’s leader, you will ride point with Sandman Slim and myself. Your troops will travel in tight formation behind a legion of our infantry. This will hide the Kissi until the last minute. Before we reach Heaven’s gates, our legions will part to reveal you. The shock will allow us to flank Heaven’s battlements and crush its armies between us. Is that clear?”
“As the pristine vacuum of space.”
Semyazah turns to his men.
“And to the rest of you?”
Heads nod. There are noises of agreement.
Semyazah goes to the edge of the balcony. The legions are spread out below him in every direction.
He shouts, “Release the hellhounds!”
There’s a whir like prop planes and clanking like all the garbage cans in L.A. are being pounded on the ground at once. A mechanical hound the size of an elephant walks across the hotel lawn. Soldiers move back and leave a lane for the hounds to pass. Behind the elephant hound, the regular hellhounds come pouring from their pens in the underground garage. They paw the ground and snarl. Brains slosh in spinal fluid within the glass globes that are their heads. That’s how you motivate your troops. Get them anxious to start the war just so they can get away from the dogs.
Out in the street, Unimogs and flatbeds arrive. In regular Hell it would be the big hounds pulling carts loaded with trebuchets, siege towers, and Hellion versions of Roman ballistae. Here it’s trucks pulling cannons, rocket launchers, and mortars. The vehicles have huge animal horns on the front and metal barbs around the body and over the top. I wouldn’t want to have to attack one.
“ItÈght01C;It&9;s time to go, gentlemen,” Semyazah says. “Our fall from Heaven took nine days, but our rise will take mere hours.”
He looks at Josef.
“I’ll meet you downstairs with your army.”
Josef nods, spreads his wings, and launches himself from the balcony.
Semyazah pulls me aside.
“Are you sure your people are going to go along with this?” I ask.
Semyazah watches Josef go.
“We’ll know soon. If not, we’ll both be dead. Even if we win, we could be killed, so what does it matter?”
“You didn’t get the pep-talk badge in Hellion Boy Scouts, did you?”
IN FRONT OF the hotel trainers gather the smaller hellhounds into packs by the giant hounds. Weapons specialists with faces like children’s nightmares do last-minute adjustments on their equipment. A lot of them recognize me. Their eyes go a little wide when they see my new arm and all the dried blood on my coat. I was expecting more hostility, but they know I’m here with Semyazah, so maybe having Sandman Slim on his side gets him extra brownie points. I’ll be his beard if it gets the job done.
Semyazah says, “My men are bringing up your transport. Which would you prefer, a male or female hellhound? The males are stronger, but the females are faster.”
“Fuck you. I didn’t sign up to be Tarzan. Get me a truck or a Harley or anything else, but I’m not riding one of those things.”
One of his officers drives up in a red Ferrari Testarossa. He gets out and hands the keys to the general.
“This is Mason Faim’s vehicle. I thought you might be more comfortable in it,” says Semyazah.
I walk around the car, running my hand over the nearly frictionless surface.
