by Pam Uphoff
"We don't have trouble keeping track. It's all on computers." Inso eyed him. "We have nicknames, socially. Especially if our names are particularly awkward to pronounce. And we have subclans, although we almost never use those outside of Clan. So I'm Inso Neartuone Gday Brisbane. With an ID number for the database. And how do you keep track of people?"
"Different culture. We don't need the level of identification you lot need, with your electronic banking. Plus there's not so many of us."
And how they tested for, say, Near to One versus Close to One. "And what is with the princesses? When you don't have a king, how can you have princesses? Thousands of them."
"It used to be by ability. Now it's all genetic, and let me tell you," Jiol pinned him with a razor sharp stare. "In my day those lazy good-for-nothings that run things now would never have been considered Withione. With. The. One." She enunciated clearly, having apparently decided he was too young to qualify as a truly sapient being. Urfa grinned, remembering being on the receiving end of the treatment.
"But, now, anyone with a complete set of all the engineered genes is a Withione or a Neartuone, depending on the percent they've got of the second set." Inso sniffed. "Princesses, for your information, are women with nearly complete double sets. But usually people mean graduates of the Princess School."
"Princess . . . School? The mind boggles."
"That's because you're an outsider." Jiol eyed him narrowly. "Not of the One, however you've made yourself feel like One. I hope you don't find that amusing."
"The One as in the populace, or the One as in this semi-mythical hive brain that kicked me out of Makkah after a brief mental scouring? No need to glare. It's not my fault your libraries are sadly lacking in books explaining your World to complete outsiders."
"Oh you're a laugh a minute." Inso growled.
"Any way you measure it, we rank by power." Jiol stared him in the eyes, daring him to say something.
"I see. Which system did Urfa qualify under?" He widened his eyes innocently, but still had to flee their joint wrath.
Then the report from the guards that Endi and Inso had jointly raided the Superintendent’s wine cupboard, and gotten howling drunk.
Inso's report arrived on the heels of that one. The old agent reported that he had finally cornered Endi and demanded to know what he'd been poisoning them all with.
I'd managed to avoid it so far, but I was beginnining to think that might have been a bad idea. I mean, Jiol, on her feet and sharp as ever.
He said that Oners could make microscopic circuits and so forth, and in something of the same sort of way, his kind of magic users can make nanoscale medical repair whatsits. Then he said he was about out; that he needed to nab a bottle of red wine. I asked him specifically what it would do. He said it was hit or miss with amputation of limbs. He claims it can regrow lost organs, glands. And he said it's a hell of an aphrodisiac. So we stole two bottles, poured something that looked like red wine into them, and proceeded with the 'xperiment.
Damn good wine, the Super keeps, by the way.
Jiol found us at it, sampled it herself, then the two of us adjourned to test the aphrodisiastic properties, which I assure you were imprrrrressive.
Endi claims it also has a massive hangover effect, so I’m sending this while still drunk. Jiol says ‘Hi!’
Love, Inso
The official guards’ reports matched in everything except the cheery tone.
Urfa found half a day to free up for a return trip.
"Two of the top agents ever, mind you! They trained me as a young nuisance."
"Well, if I had asked them to help me escape they'd probably have beaned me over the head and tied me up." Endi, sprawled in a chair and clearly nursing a hangover, held out a bottle with the dregs of wine sloshing around the bottom. "Peace offering. Example of why we'd be an excellent trading partner." He tapped his forehead with his left fingers and the pain lines vanished.
"Peace? You've got the Council in a complete dither." Urfa scowled, and took the bottle away from him. "Half the people say attack right now, the others want to wait a bit. Next day they're all the other way around."
"You know what? You lot need a distraction. Umm, and not inside here, that would be disastrous. Let’s try outside, almost at the gate, eh?" He pried himself out of the chair and walked out, ignoring the looming guards. The locked front doors practically leaped open as he walked up to them.
Urfa growled under his breath and followed. The guards caught up to Endi as he strode down the sidewalk toward the gate of the institution. They jumped in front of him to block him.
Endi simply turned and sat down. Cross-legged on the ground, facing away from the driveway. He tried to pull one foot over his knee, gave it up. "I am so tight. And I really do hate rehab." He rested his hands, palm up, on his knees and closed his eyes.
"Giving us a demonstration of your magic? What are you going to do?" Urfa crossed his arms and stared down at the man.
Inso’s wheelchair whined to a stop at a safe distance. Jiol stopped beside him. Even seeing her back on her feet, eyes alert, he was hard pressed to believe it. He looked at the wine bottle he still held. Looked around and caught the eye of his chauffeur. The man drove the car closer. Urfa handed him the bottle. "Stick it in the back. I’ll take it to the lab later." I haven’t followed up on the analysis of his hip flask contents, either. Probably the same stuff. He walked back and looked down on Endi.
Urfa could hear Inso’s low growl. "Watch him, Director. He’s tricky, thinks in a really strange fashion. It's like he's a nice little boy, who doesn't think there's anything special about being Superman."
More patients gathered behind them.
Urfa shifted. What is the man doing, and should I break it up? The boldest spy in the multiverse. Infiltrated the Presidential Palace. Do not underestimate the man, just because you keep trusting him when you’re near him. Just because he saved Orde's life . . . He opened his mouth to order Endi back inside.
A bright flash in midair swirled into a pale prismatic circle, opened wide and changed to greens and browns. Grass, trees, dirt, unpainted wooden buildings.
The guards leaped and grabbed Endi, dragged him away from the . . . phenomenon.
"Motherless trickster! How dare you show pictures of . . . You miserable piece of . . ." Inso’s wheelchair whined past, aimed for the picture.
Jiol ran forward. "Inso wait! There something strange . . ."
Inso’s chair jolted, heaved itself up as if climbing over a curb. He rolled into the glowing ring, and was sucked through. And deposited in the picture. Inso appeared to stop on scruffy grass and rotate his chair, looking all around. Jiol stopped dead, just outside the illusion, then stepped carefully through. And into it. She prowled around to the side. As she passed the edge of the illusion, she disappeared. Inso didn’t seem to be upset about it. Urfa walked forward.
"Director? Is this a good idea?" One of the guards, still with Endi in his grip.
Endi was grinning.
Urfa stepped into the illusion, wheezed as his breath was squeezed out . . . and out onto a lumpy lawn he could feel through his shoes. The illusion had expanded all around him, and included people looking back at them, a small crowd gathering here as well. He turned and looked back. Now the illusion hanging in the air a few centimeters above the ground was a scene of the institute, guards and patients watching, his alarmed chauffeur leaving the car and hastening forward.
Urfa turned back and walked over to Inso. The old man tore his eyes away from the weathered buildings in front of him and looked up.
"Director. This is Granite Peak. I’ve been here." He struggled to sit more upright in the chair. Raised his voice. "Arry? Is that you? And Cough Cough, don’t think I’d forget that ugly face, eh?"
Two of the men gawped, walked forward as if dreaming. "Inso. Inso, is that a gate? After all these years, we’d given up hoping that you’d find us."
Inso cleared his throat. "Well . . ." And sud
denly slapped his damaged hand down on the arm of his wheelchair. "Ha, actually . . ." He started laughing, bellowing.
Urfa snorted. Yes, hysterical. The spy from Target Forty-two has found an excellent way to distract us. By giving us what we think we most want. "Arry? And umm. How do you do. I am Director Urfa of the Presidential Directorate. It appears that you aren’t having any current problems with Earth."
"Arry Withione, Ahme Withione. I was Vice Governor when the Earth attacked. Governor now. Acting. We, well, Ahem here, led the people up into the mountains and kept us hidden until we could sabotage their gate anchor. Then we started raiding, and we recaptured our town. But I think the Earth's come back; they’ve started moving west again." He crossed his arms and scowled. "I trust you’re going to help with that."
Urfa blinked watering eyes. "Oh yes. Aren’t we just. In fact if you’ll excuse me, I have some calls to make."
He stepped back through the gate. The reports on the new type of gate didn't mention that they were so gentle you could step through them, unprotected, without feeling like someone shoved you through a meat grinder. He shook off the thought and made a beeline for the car. "Pop the trunk, it’s time for weapons distributions." He grabbed the phone and punched the President’s button while he assessed the now healthy, former agents and guards who were watching in disbelief.
"Ejhu, organize a squad or two, arm them and get them across that gate. That’s Granite Peak over there, and we’re going to hold it until the army gets here." The satellite phone squeaked. "Mr. President? If you recall, the attack on Target Forty-two was in part due to our belief that Earth had been experimenting with a new type of transdimensional gate? Apparently the wizards of Target Forty-two really are making the gates, magically. Captain Wolfson has just demonstrated how, by opening one to Granite Peak."
Major Eppa and a squad of heavily armed troops were the first to arrive, by air. A mechanized company were hard on their heels, by road. A selection of people from the War Ministry arrived to investigate the ridiculous claims . . . they departed at speed, to mobilize their army to retake a world.
Endi cleared his throat politely and suggested that he ought to at least shove the gate a bit down into the ground so Major Eppa's heavy vehicles could drive through when they arrived, and if they wished, he could turn the gate a little . . .
Major Eppa hauled him to the gate and he demonstrated angling the gate for an easy turn off the driveway, and then seesawing the circular gate into the ground so vehicles could drive through. A sergeant trotted up with a tape and measured, indicated his satisfaction when the flat surface was wide enough to accommodate their vehicles' wheels and treads.
Another aircar landed. This time with Orde on board. He walked in and out of the gate, met the Governor of the lost colony. And walked over to Endi.
"How long will it stay open?"
"Until a wizard with special training closes it."
"This . . . How do you keep surprising us like this? Why?"
"This isn’t a gift. It’s a diversion. And a test."
Urfa stood shoulder to shoulder with the President. "What do you mean by that? Is your Department of Interdimensional Security and Cooperation going to be watching?"
Endi flashed his teeth. "Oh yes. Are you just going to protect your people? Or will you try to capture the Earth’s gate and attack them through it? Are you just going to retake what you’ve utilized, or will you massacre the Earth's farmers? Will you try to talk to the Earth, negotiate with them? How are you going to treat the Natives over there?"
The president glowered. "Our biggest predicament is deciding what to do with you. The Council is making noises about shooting spies on sight."
"Oh. Sorry. Look, I've been hanging about, figuring that if you wanted to start some diplomacy I could run messages. But if my escaping will solve your dilemma, I'll be glad to."
Urfa crossed his arms. "Oh. This I want to see."
The two nameless goons poised to leap.
Endi shrugged apologetically, and stepped forward. And disappeared. The guards leaped through his space, then split up sweeping for an invisible man. Urfa eyed the flower petals drifting down to the pavement. Dogwood. I wonder where the nearest dogwood is? "I think I shouldn’t have said that."
Epilogue
Paris, European Region
30 Safar 1397 yp
". . . so like it or not, you puppies are going to get drilled in both magical fighting and martial arts. And then you're going to learn how to mix them up. Because next time Endi may be fighting on the other side." Idlo eyed the already tired pair. Urfa had made them an offer, and they’d both jumped at it. Idlo had made them get up and run with the rest of the Guards. And run himself. His legs felt limp. How did we get so sloppy?
". . . can't believe . . . " A faint grumble from Ydro.
"And here I thought you were a scientist. That sounded rather closed-minded." Inre had recovered from his "ordeal" as a captive of three magical women, and was understandably chipper about his escape. In fact he was turning into quite the ladies man. Despite the fact that he still had to work to be anything but unnoticeable.
Idlo forced a frown onto his face. Somehow he hadn't been able to find the contempt with which he'd once held these two Upcomers. Somehow Inre’s mother being a Servaone and his father being some unknown Oner didn't seem important anymore. And Ydro, a Halfer mother, and a Servaone father? He ought to have been shocked and horrified at the young man’s background. A month ago he would have dismissed the boy instantly, without bothering to learn that his father taught science in an exclusive prep school, and his mother happened to be a PhD historian. "Chat later. Form a shield." He whipped a push spell over and tumbled them. "What's this? No one ever taught you to ground your shields? They absorb kinetic energy. What do you expect . . . " Once these two were shaped up a bit he’d bring in some Princesses. According to rumor, they were all trained in battle magic. He was going to get trained, and train everyone he worked with.
And above all, he was determined to know his compatriots well. Never again would he make assumptions and take another man's loyalty for granted.
***
Izzo studied Xiat.
She was looking past him, not meeting his eyes. "It's been a pleasure working with you. Regional Analyst."
"I suppose you're going to be sticking close to the President."
"Actually we're pretty sure we've got everyone, and the War Party has settled down to the more standard level of political maneuvering."
"This has been quite a bloodbath. Subdirector Efge gave me a pretty dark look when I asked if the War Party was going to disband altogether." He grinned a little. "I'm not sure but that he's not the highest ranker left. It'll certainly be interesting, all these fresh young faces in high places."
"Indeed. Even with six of the eight main conspirators dead, the smaller fry are frantically trying to cover up every speck of unknowing complicity in the assassination plot. And more babies, yet. Seventeen functionaries all at mid to high levels, horribly embarrassed, resigning or transferring. And furious with their wives, who are, for now, mostly enjoying the notoriety."
"I thought that publicizing Endi's actions as those of a spy, deliberately targeting the War Party, would remove most of the social and governmental costs of being cuckolded." Izzo shrugged. "Instead it seems to be worse. A Native tupped their wives and got them with child. Oh. Horrors."
Xiat's eyes softened for a minute. "Poppy's boy was born two days ago. She let me hold him. She's still crying over Uzga not coming to see her at all. It's not good for a woman player to fall for one of her husbands. And most of them didn’t, so while there’s shock, there’s also little grief from the widows.
"But anyway, with increased funding for new Information Teams, and so many upper level resignations, there's been a ripple effect through law enforcement. Lots of new opportunities opening up for entry level investigators. I think I'll be moving into police work fairly soon."
"Oh?
Well, if you have any questions about it, feel free to call me. Or we could talk it over, over dinner. Say . . . tonight."
"You just don't give up, do you, Colonial?"
"Princess, you have no idea."
"I am fifty-nine years old. I am accustomed to living alone, to not taking other people into consideration when making plans."
Izzo nodded. "I'm sixty-four, and much the same. And I’ll be spending a lot of time out of town. But I also have two tickets to the symphony, if you just happen to be free Thursday night."
"And you don't fight fair, either."
***
" . . . then he looked the Eldest of the One right in the eye and said he was the God of Spies."
Rael smiled faintly, partly because she could well imagine it, but more to remove that distressed hurt in the back of Urfa's eyes. It was my job, and my honor. And, yes, it cost me nearly everything. That's life. "Just tell me he doesn't have a church, and people don't pray to him." That had sounded almost normal. Her breath control was improving.
He snickered. "Not as far as I know. You look tired. I'll tell you the rest, next time."
"Take care of yourself, Director. And business. Rehab's keeping me busy, here. They've promised me a computer next week." She managed to widen the smile. I can now wiggle the thumb and three fingers of my right hand. My bladder control is still a bit iffy, but better than it was last month. By such small steps, I'm measuring my progress.
After Urfa'd left she turned her head away from the surveillance cameras. Never let the nurses see you cry. Pity is infuriating. It's been half a year. There won't be much more improvement. She tapped the control that was always under her hand and the lights dimmed.
She closed her eyes and tried to will the tears away. Endi . . . a god. Her lips curved up, then trembled. I remember how you danced with magic and sword. You have at least one worshipper on this world. "God of Spies, help me in the depths of my despair, and the darkest of my nights." Her whisper died away as she felt the sudden pressure, the weight of power, some broad, engulfing magical potential . . .