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Quote by Steven Raaymakers

“Raziel gripped the beast’s razor-sharp beak in one hand, slamming it to the earth and stepping on its throat, returning to the beasts above as he crushed it underneath his boot. Burning black ichor splashed across his face, but the stinging pain only made him fight harder. He roared and slashed out again and again, claws and feathers flicking about his face in a vile whirlwind.”

Quote by Steven Raaymakers

Book:A Canticle of War
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A Canticle of War

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Steven Raaymakers

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“The dogmas of the quiet past, are inadequate to the stormy present. The occasion is piled high with difficulty, and we must rise with the occasion. As our case is new, so we must think anew, and act anew. We must disenthrall ourselves, and then we shall save our country. Fellow citizens, we cannot escape history. We of this Congress and this administration, will be remembered in spite of ourselves. No personal significance of insignificance, can spare one or another of us. The fiery trial through which we pass, will light us down, in honor of dishonor, to the latest generation. We SAY we are for the Union. The world will not forget that we say this. We know how to save the Union. The world knows we do know how to save it. We-even we here- hold the power, and bear the responsibility. In GIVING freedom to the slave, we assure freedom to the free- honorable alike in what we give, and what we preserve. We shall nobly save, or meanly lose, the last best hope on earth. Other means may succeed; this could not fail. The way is plain, peaceful, generous, just- a way which, if followed, the world will forever applaud, and God must forever bless.”

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“This is getting beyond a joke now. I have a long list of things that can’t be completed because some vital part is not available. It’s driving my Commanders crazy.” He glanced at Mary. “And they take it out on me!” The Admiral saw the grin. “Ah, I see, so now you want to take it out on me? No way, Captain Heron.” He laughed. “Security think there is something else going on here. None of the suppliers is reporting problems in manufacture, there’s no shortages reported in the raw materials, and there are no reports of any other problems—but they seem unable to meet a third of our requirements. Just enough that we can’t claim breaches of contract.”

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“James Heron stepped from the personal transport as Herbert, the family’s outmoded android butler, opened the front door of Scrabo Farm. There were infinitely more efficient and newer model android servants available, but neither James Heron nor his sister Niamh L’Estrange would dream of scrapping the mechanical attendant that had served the family so well, and enlivened their childhood with its fussy care of them both. “Hello, Herbert, is my sister home?” Answering in the slightly mechanical voice that James had liked so much when he was a boy, Herbert said, “She is in her study, Captain. I have alerted her to your arrival.”

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“I’ll talk to him any way I want to. Sure, you could try roughing me up, but you might want to stop and think about that, because you won’t always be in that uniform, and you won’t always have your buddies around, and this island—well, it’s an island. If you don’t know it as well as we do, and you don’t know the places to avoid, such as the beaches the pleurodons like, let’s just say a man with enemies could find life a little tricky here.” He stared the man down. “Are you threatening me, Grover?” “Not a threat. Just a warning. This planet is a wild, untamed place. It can be harsh and cruel when you least expect it.”

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“They’re into a bit more than assassination,” said the Admiral, aka Mr Brown, “and not all of them are top agents—the ones that use the names of gods and goddesses to identify themselves. Some are called daemons, and they serve as apprentices to the top players. They’ve a large number of people in the mix. Same arrangement. A team of professional killers, safe crackers, explosives—you name it —round each one, and they’re not afraid to sacrifice members for the objective, or to protect the goddess or god heading it. Every time we get close to them we lose people. It’s as if they’re playing with us. We’re pretty sure they’re all very well connected, and some of them indulge in what they call ‘hunting’. Some poor bastard is abducted and dumped somewhere remote without the means to defend himself. Then he or she is hunted by one or more of the Pantheon. They’re psychopaths—but, as I said, they’re very well connected.”

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