Magic Man Charlie

by Scott Baron

  Eddie slowed his descent, leveling into a slow glide as they approached an area of flattened trees and disturbed soil. There, resting in the afternoon sun, was a shape Charlie had thought he would never see again. They made a slow loop, surveying the area from above.

  The majority of the team that had been tasked with protecting the ship were still outside, frozen in place near the open door in the hull. The rest were undoubtedly inside, and Charlie couldn’t help but wonder what other booby traps they might have inadvertently sprung.

  They would find out soon enough.

  “Hello again,” Charlie said, taking in the sight of his old ship. “Okay, Eddie. Take us down.”

  Chapter Eight

  Charlie and Rika looked at one another as they approached the Asbrú. After so much time, it was hard to believe, but there it was, looming above them.

  “That’s definitely her,” Rika said. “I’d know our ship anywhere.”

  “You remember that thing more than you remember me,” Charlie said. “I’m flattered.”

  “Well, I knew her better than you, Charlie. I was second-in-command, after all.”

  He cracked a little grin and continued to move in for a closer look. A shadow flashed by as his friend flew overhead.

  “Ara, do you sense anything?”

  “No. Whatever spell caused this, there doesn’t appear to be any new activity from the vessel.”

  “All right. We’re going to go in. Let me know the second you sense anything, okay?”

  “Of course. And, Charlie, be careful.”

  “Thanks, Ara. We will.”

  “Ara doesn’t sense anything,” he relayed to the others. “Well, no time like the present. Let’s go see what’s inside.”

  They walked closer, stepping over the smashed trees that had been flattened when the ship came in for its rough landing. The hull was intact, and looked almost new––except for the crashing part, of course. But there were still some signs of the original damage from the ship’s belly-flop onto the hard-pack of the Balamar Wastelands, which had torn away much of the underside.

  “You see this, Rika?” Charlie asked.

  “Yeah. Rebuilt, but the seams aren’t right. It wasn’t welded into place. Whatever they used to repair the ship, it’s a technology that’s foreign to me.”

  “Magic, actually,” Bawb interjected.

  “Of course it is,” she grumbled. “So, it was a spell to superheat the materials they slapped in place to make them fit and stay put? Like a magical weld, I guess.”

  “Hardly. I know this spell. It is a rather crude means of patching a hull, but it will do the job in a fix. Additionally, it requires very little continuing power drain to maintain the spell. It doesn’t actually attach the patches, you see. Instead, it creates a perfect seal, pulling the replaced sections flush with the hull from the inside. So long as the underlying structure holds up, this will stay in place, even in the event of a crash.”

  Charlie ran his hand along the new belly of the ship. It looked like it was new, but he vividly remembered the ruined ship, as well as the dozen dead crew members, taken when that part had been shorn away. It was such an eerie feeling, knowing this was his ship, the result of his long hours and years of engineering work, now resurrected from the grave and turned into a weapon.

  “What do you say, Rika? Ready to do this?”

  “As ready as you are.”

  “So not very, then?”

  “Shut up and lead the way.”

  “Okay, then. Let’s see what our girl has for us.”

  The group carefully made their way to the open doorway, stepping around the frozen men and women in their path. Charlie sensed an ongoing push of magic coming from the ship, likely caused by his bond with Ara.

  “You feeling this?”

  “Yes. The spell that froze everyone. It is still active. Still sending some sort of continuous signal, though I’m not sure how, exactly. Or to what end, for that matter.”

  “Well, I guess we’ll just have to wing it and see what we find.”

  Charlie flicked on his flashlight and stepped inside the ship. What he saw was a sharp contrast to the Asbrú’s near-pristine exterior.

  “Hoooly shit,” he gasped.

  “Jesus, this place is a wreck,” Rika said.

  “At the risk of repeating myself, I must once more ask. This flew?” Bawb said with a little grin. His familiar calm and amused outlook in the face of death was slowly making a reappearance.

  “It didn’t always look like this,” Charlie said. “They must’ve just fixed the outside to make it appear as if everything was okay. Trojan horses don’t work otherwise.”

  “Trojan horse? You haven’t mentioned this breed before,” Leila said.

  “Historical reference. I’ll explain later,” he said, moving farther into the wreck of his ship.

  The insides were an utter shambles, much of the debris and ruined equipment not even removed for the scrap pile before the ship was sent on its nefarious mission. Most of the sand from its years in the Balamar Wastelands had been scooped out, but that seemed to be as far as the cleanup had gone.

  Charlie had a brief flashback to his short stint as a space pirate. He and Marban had been aboard a ship whose captain had scuttled the craft rather than let it be taken. The craft had plunged toward the planet below, but spells protecting the valuable cargo had slowed and directed the descent, keeping the ship intact upon impact, though just barely.

  From the look of things, a similar type of spell had guided the Asbrú to Wales. He had to wonder what the significance was, if any. What sort of person had layered that magic into his ship? It was obviously an expensive bit of casting, and whoever had sent it back to Earth had serious resources at their disposal. The sheer expenditure of magic to force a wormhole open would have been staggering.

  Leila’s Magus stone remained dark against her skin. Whatever magic was still pulsing out from the Asbrú, it was of no threat to them. Not at the moment, at least.

  They pressed on, moving deeper into the ship, heading toward the ruined command center. Walls had buckled, only magic holding the infrastructure in place. A lot of time and effort had gone into keeping the ship intact, but it was magic-magic doing the work, not “tech-magic” as the residents of that distant galaxy had once called it.

  Finally, they reached command. Rika paused in the doorway, immobile, staring at the place her seat used to be. All that remained was a pile of debris. Debris from underneath which Charlie had pulled her to safety. A flicker of the memory tickled the edges of her mind before another sight caught her eye.

  Just behind her station, thick bolts jutted from the floor, sheared off when several tons of steel had torn through the captain’s chair––and the man seated in it.

  “Reynard,” she said, quietly.

  “What was that?” Charlie asked.

  “His name was Reynard,” she replied. “I remember him.”

  Charlie nodded, silently paying his respects to their dead captain, his remains buried in the red sands of a distant planet.

  “Come on, Rika. There’s nothing for us in here. We need to check out the rest of the ship.”

  She hesitated a moment, taking in the dark compartment one last time, then turned and stepped out the door to command for the last time.

  Chapter Nine

  Somehow, the Asbrú had been turned into a flying weapon. A dispersal device for potent magic the likes of which even the residents of that distant, magical galaxy had never seen. A massive spell––or more precisely, combination of spells––powered by an incredible amount of magic. Enough to freeze an entire planet.

  But the ship was nothing more than a dressed-up wreck.

  “I don’t get it,” Leila said. “There’s no one on board.”

  “We still haven’t checked every compartment,” Charlie noted. “But from what I’ve seen so far, I am inclined to agree with you. It doesn’t make sense. How in the world did this rusted-out hulk power that k
ind of spell on its own?”

  Rika pulled open a panel, examining the melted circuitry inside. “Could they have hidden something inside the bulkhead, maybe? I mean, there’s enough space for it. The ship was designed to have additional equipment installed in the future, which is why there was so much void space in the walls when we launched.”

  Charlie thought it was fascinating watching her move through the ship. Though she had essentially been lobotomized, the magical, healing waters he’d provided her had restored the physical structure of her brain. It was still wiped, but it was healthy. But now, as she passed from compartment to compartment, an instinctive muscle memory was kicking in.

  Charlie didn’t say anything, not wanting her to become self-conscious and lose the groove she was in, and after searching through a half dozen compartments, she was moving about the ship with the easy familiarity one would expect of its second-in-command.

  The group split into two teams, all of them armed and ready, though both of the AIs in the region, as well as their dragon friend, were certain they were alone. It took some time digging through all of the levels and compartments, but eventually, something began to stand out.

  Certain panels seemed to have been re-sealed, the edges of them lacking the years of buildup found elsewhere throughout the ship. Someone had, indeed, been tinkering within the ship’s walls.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Rika asked as she pulled open a tightly sealed panel.

  Charlie shined his flashlight inside, the golden strands gleaming in its glow. “Holy shit. That’s Ootaki hair, Rika. A lot of it.”

  “I thought so. But what’s it doing running through the walls of the ship?”

  Charlie leaned into the narrow space and examined their find more closely. It seemed as though a large, unused conduit had been filled with the power-containing locks.

  “This is bad. These conduits run all throughout the ship,” he said. “There’s no telling how many are hiding this stuff. We need to tell the others. Have them shift their search so we can map out where this hair is hidden.”

  Charlie passed word over their comms––devices he was thrilled to have access to, rather than using magical skrees to send messages––and over the course of the next several hours, the group managed to roughly map out the location of the hidden power source.

  It wasn’t hard. It was everywhere.

  “Impossible,” Bawb said. “This quantity of Ootaki hair simply does not exist. Even at its peak, the Council of Twenty possessed perhaps a fraction of this amount.”

  “So you’re saying it’s a lot.”

  “No, Charlie, I’m saying it cannot be. We have discovered sizable quantities running throughout the entire ship, as if it were an invasive vine living in the infrastructure. But some of it is shorter, some much, much longer. Some highly powered, some minorly so, as if taken from all manner of Ootaki. But it is the sum of it that truly worries me. This much hair? It is impossible.”

  “And yet, here it is,” Leila said, running her finger along the strands.

  Her Magus stone began to glow, and a shuddering wave of magic spread through the ship.

  “Leila, let go!” Bawb yelled.

  She quickly snatched her hand back, the stone’s glow fading until the unsettling magic disappeared.

  “What was that?” Rika asked.

  “That,” Bawb said, “was a booby trap. Or more likely, a deadman switch. When your Magus stone interfered with the Ootaki hair’s ongoing spell, the deadman began to activate.”

  Leila went pale, despite her olive complexion. “You mean I almost just killed us right now?”

  “It is a distinct possibility. Yes,” the Wampeh replied. “However, it would seem the gradual pressure your Magus stone applied was perceived as less of a threat than a direct attack. Fascinating, really. Whoever planned this accounted for potential disarming spells. But I wonder...” He pulled a small knife from one of his hidden sheaths and gently probed the hair.

  Nothing.

  Bawb then pulled a lone strand loose and applied the blade to it.

  “You sure that’s a good idea?” Ripley asked, peering over his shoulder. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Guys? Anyone? That’s not a good idea, right?”

  Bawb flashed a pointy-toothed grin. “Do not fear, young one. In a vessel this size, with this much Ootaki hair, a single strand should not cause a catastrophic response. It may, however, reveal if there is a non-magical weakness we may exploit.”

  In one fluid motion he sliced through the hair. Immediately, a flash of magic rumbled through the ship, a distressing buzz lingering long after he retracted the blade.

  “This is most disconcerting,” he said, re-sheathing the knife.

  “That it caused a reaction? Or the size of the reaction?” Charlie asked.

  “Both. But more the latter than the former. We must consult with the Wise One. I am certain she felt that, and she is far more skilled than I at reading arcane spells. Whatever that was, this ship is a far greater threat than any of us previously believed.”

  Charlie felt his heart beat a little harder. Bawb was spooked. For the deadliest assassin in thirty systems to be spooked, something very, very bad must be afoot.

  “Ara, did you feel that?” he silently asked his Zomoki friend.

  “How could I not? I was just probing the layers of spells encompassing that vessel. Someone put a lot of effort into this––whatever this is.”

  “Yeah, we noticed.”

  “No, Charlie. When I say a lot, I mean years.”

  “How is that even possible?”

  “I do not know. But this spell is growing stronger. It is a slow process, but I can sense it regaining its potency.”

  “That would be the Ootaki hair. We found it running all throughout the ship.”

  “Ah, yes, that would explain it. This planet’s sun will recharge the hair’s power, as it does mine, given time.”

  “But what about that other spell? The one that flared up just now? Bawb tried cutting a single hair and we got that reaction. He thinks it’s some kind of deadman switch designed to do something if the hair is interfered with.”

  “I concur.”

  “But what will it do?”

  “I don’t know. Fortunately, it is recharging very slowly. The sun’s radiation has a much harder time penetrating the hull of that ship. Were it fully exposed, we would have quite a problem on our hands.”

  “And we don’t now?”

  “Oh, we most certainly do,” she replied with a little chuckle. “But it could be far worse. And at the moment we have multiple other issues at hand as well.”

  Charlie knew she was right. The Asbrú was just one part of the problem, and from what she could tell, they had time. And he had learned long ago, it is far better to step back and prepare than rush in half-cocked.

  “Come on, you guys,” he said to his friends. “Let’s get out of here. We need to regroup. We need to talk to the AIs.”

  He followed the others as they carefully filed from the Asbrú, heading back to Eddie’s waiting ship, a cloud of doubt hanging thick in the air. But surely the AI minds running the planet would know what to do.

  I just hope they have some semblance of a plan.

  Chapter Ten

  When the survey team reached the nascent ship, they discovered that Eddie had gone the extra mile in their absence and whipped up some hot cocoa for the survey team with his rather limited food replicator. He may not have had the capability of producing the more complicated spreads found on larger ships, but at this precise moment, the comfort beverage hit the spot. Especially for those who had never tasted it before.

  “This is amazing!” Leila gushed, a good portion of her funk clearing with the first sip of the new treat. “Charlie, your coffee was wonderful, but this? This is so... I don’t know how to describe it.”

  Charlie grinned, pleased to see her spirits rising. Even Bawb seemed slightly more relaxed as he sipped his steaming mug. Ripley and Ri
ka––being native Earthlings––were not nearly so enthusiastic, though the chocolatey treat did hit that nostalgic pleasure center in their brains.

  “Eddie, can you patch in Cal and the others?” Charlie asked as the warm cocoa slid into his belly.

  “No problem, Chief.”

  The ship’s young friend rolled her eyes.

  “Stop calling people chief, Eddie. It’s lame,” Ripley grumbled.

  “You got it, Boss.”

  “Ugh. You’re ridiculous.”

  “Says you. You’re one to talk, you know.”

  “Guys,” Charlie interrupted. “While we all normally enjoy your banter, we really need to focus here.”

  “Sorry,” Ripley replied.

  “Yeah, apologies, Your Highness.”

  Ripley let out a grunt, but held her tongue.

  “I heard that,” Eddie said. “And, technically, it’s correct. Oh, by the way, I have Cal and the others on the line.”

  “We’ve been listening for a bit, actually,” the super-powerful AI noted.

  “Wonderful,” Charlie sighed. “So, any new developments on your end?”

  “Vic has managed to get the fires out in London, which is positive, of course. We are quite fortunate that cybernetic organisms remained unaffected by this spell. But I’ve spoken with the other major AIs across the globe, and everyone is still quite befuddled by this magic.”

  “It makes sense. They only just learned that magic was even a real thing and not some fairy tale, after all.”

  “Indeed. Unfortunately, the systemic failures of more simplistic systems worldwide have proven to be somewhat of a hindrance. As such, all of our cyborg workforce is tasked with handling the myriad emergencies that have arisen. Damage control is sucking up valuable resources we would much rather deploy toward more directly addressing this new threat.”

  “Sadly, until we decipher this spell, I don’t know there’s really much we can do,” Charlie said. “And on top of that, there are just five of us. We’re a ridiculously tiny team.”

  “I am actually hoping to help with that. Sid, the AI overseeing Dark Side moon base, has just dispatched a ship with some of his most talented crew. A few dozen men and women with a high degree of technical proficiency should touch down in Los Angeles shortly. So while things are difficult, you will have assistance, at least. Now we simply need to find what they will be able to do to be of help.”