Professor Trond Krag Extract

Extract from Buried Dogs Don’t Bark by Issac Grey Lambert.

“I saw it once. I’m probably one of only a handful left who can say that. Unless I am the last, in which case I honour them all with a raised glass. I visited the North American forward operating base, near Ten Sleep, Wyoming, not soon before the end, or what would become the end. At its peak, the operation dispatched twelve sorties an hour. I shook all their hands, every one of them. From the safety of a lead-lined hazmat suit, of course. On the last night, the camp commander insisted I inspect the garrison perimeter. The troops needed a pep talk, or inspirational speech, or something. Over the Bighorn Basin ridge, as dusk set in, it rose to dominate the sky, the aurora artificialis. I didn’t know who named it, but I knew what it was. We all did. Insane Al’s headquarters, if that is the right name for it, was situated to the north, in the ruins of Billings, Montana. Its defence system ran so much power it distorted the Earth’s magnetic field there, causing the aurora. I remember the electrifying colours and the delicate overlapping sheets of light, as if the universe sought to fold in on itself. Despite the horrors brought by the war, I could not help but be awed by the beauty of it.”