POSTHUMAN

Chapter Six

Marcus peered out of a window at lazily drifting clouds. That anaesthetic must have been quite powerful to keep him out during take-off. He reluctantly entered the conference room and was greeted by a benevolently beaming Judah. Marcus smiled wryly, Judah's infinite reserves of levity never ceased to amaze him. "Good afternoon Commandant Sewell!" Judah held out a champagne flute to his former adjutant, Marcus accepted the glass, somewhat taken aback. Judah held the cork and rotated the bottle at an angle to ease out the stopper, Marcus had seen a few people do it like that before, the fact Judah preferred the more efficient method came as no surprise to the newly inaugurated commandant.

        He poured champagne into Marcus' flute and then his own, "You should be ecstatic, to be promoted this early is almost unheard of; a definite vote-of-confidence in your leadership abilities. Salt Lake was our first great triumph in the Americas, there will be many more. Of that I can assure you. Both of our promotions owe much to your brilliance."

        "Both?" Marcus paused. He studied the medals pinned to the left breast of Judah's tunic, British designs. Marcus understood now that The Providence was considered part of Britain's government and to a lesser extent, its armed forces.

        "Yes, we've been assigned to the new Jouhaux Regiment, 22nd Division, 6th Corps. I am to be your colonel," Judah sipped a little more champagne, "We're en route to Chihuahua Airport, there should be a government delegation waiting for us when we arrive."

        "Why Mexico? Aren't 11th and 12th Divisions already there?" Marcus had become accustomed to the power of daemon soldiers, two divisions could handle whatever challenges Mexico presented.

        "Of course any real fighting has been done; the feral population was eliminated through a combination of Providence strength and Mexican knowledge. US Navy ships are on the west and east coasts of Mexico, Providence Armada ships are also along the east coast. We're acting as glorified exterminators to open up relations with Mexico," Judah polished off his drink and replenished his flute, "I have to commend the Mexicans, they've cornered millions of necrophids."

Judah, Marcus and the captains of the Jouhaux Regiment descended the steel steps before their plane, a fleet of limousines and trucks waited for them on the runway.

        Mexican officials and a military escort were grouped together near the limousines. Judah went to shake the hand of a broad, bearded man slightly ahead of the others, "President Lozano, pleasure to meet you. I am Colonel Judah Nimåfänger, and this is my second, Commandant Marcus Sewell." Lozano released Judah's hand and clasped Marcus' when the colonel mentioned him. Lozano, Judah and Marcus were ushered into a limousine.

        Marcus watched the city zip past the one-way windows; this was the first time he had ever been inside a limo. Chihuahua looked to be on the rise, new developments and redevelopments every which way. This reminded him somewhat of home, New York had been given a new lease of life thanks to Providence investment. The stock exchange had reopened to trade with Africa, Asia and Europe. Marcus had watched as The Providence insinuated itself into the fabric of America, he wondered whether this was a world order he had any right to protest against.

        He caught snippets of the conversation which went on around him. Necrophids cornered, Jalisco, 37 million. That's all he needed to know, he would again bear witness to the impossible. 650,000 people had died at almost the same time, now Judah had set his sights on destroying 37 million walking corpses. Now this, Marcus could not wait to see.

Marcus was in combat gear. He wore a Providence-issued Superior Personnel Defence Vest, the rank slide of a Providence commandant on his uniform; his life started to feel like one irony after another. He rode in an M8 Buffalo alongside Judah – even the driver wore a gas mask to counteract the stench which would have assailed them otherwise. The reek of 37 million necrotic abominations would be enough to knock them out cold.