Gamers and Gods: AES

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Gamers and Gods: AES Page 45

by Matthew Kennedy

By the time Aes was back on his feet, feeling more or less himself again, Sherman the Tank had left the 'sky-scraper'. The parting was amicable; Aes gathered that the man had an errand of some sort to attend to.

  Something had changed between him and Darla, although he didn't quite know why. She insisted on opening doors for him and supporting him as he walked as if he were a cripple. He didn't say anything about it because he enjoyed the feeling of her arm around him.

  Outside, night had fallen. Low-lying clouds blocked off the sky, denying him the stars. They strolled down the sidewalk. Lights had come on in many of the windows. Aes made himself look away from the buildings on either side. As long as he looked straight ahead, he didn't feel that oppressive crowding as if running a gauntlet of brooding giants.

  The street was lit by tall torches that burned without flames or smoke. More tamed lightning, he learned, when he asked about them.

  Darla let go of him and took stock under one of these torches. “You're a mess,” she declared. “Let's go back to Pelion for a moment. It'll fix your clothes.”

  He had no objection, especially since that meant she would hold his hand again. This time the flash of all-surrounding light did not disconcert him as much as before.

  They were standing next to the cave. Once more, Darla was dressed in her chiton, pampla and himation. Aes's torn and bloody hero suit was replaced by a clean chiton and leather sandals. Aes looked around the clearing; it was a bright night, lit by a full moon.

  As he turned back to Darla, she kissed him. He was caught by surprise. Although he did not pull away, he closed his eyes as a pang of guilt stabbed him.

  She broke the kiss. “You were very brave, back there in the building,” she said.

  Aes looked down. “I was not,” he said. “You and Sherman the Tank did all the fighting. All that I did was–”

  “–was keep us alive. By the way, Aes, his name is Sherman. He's a tank, but it's not part of his name. He just likes to introduce himself that way. It's an old war joke.”

  Her arms were around him, a guilty pleasure that he enjoyed, and regretted. Forgive me, Epione, he thought. You are lost to me by three thousand years, gone from the world but not my heart.

  The warmth of Darla, the smell of her skin and the press of her arms, these were things that only served to remind him of what he had lost. And why? Why had the gods done this thing to him? What could possibly justify such cruelty?

  Aes wept. Epione, mother of my children, he prayed, call me back to my own time, to your arms! Let me gaze again on the hills and mountains of my Hellas, and not this mocking reminder of a dream. I cannot love again. It is too late for you, and far too soon for me. He clung to this dream-woman from the future and sobbed without shame.

  Darla held him. “Aes, what's the matter? You made the right choice back there. It's okay, really. Let it all out if you have to.”

  After a time, he disengaged from her gently. “I am sorry. We got so busy that I forgot about my wife, then it all rushed back to me. I was with her two days ago...and now she is dead 3000 years.”

  Darla was silent for a moment. Had he angered her, to speak of another woman after she kissed his face, and held him in her arms?

  After a moment she sat down on Cheiron's herb-grinding rock. “I'm the one that should be sorry,” she said softly, after a moment. “You've lost everyone you ever knew. That's a lot of loss to deal with all at once.”

  Aes gazed out over the Aegean. “Have you ever lost someone close to you?” he asked her. “Or is all violence confined to the dream worlds, in your future time?”

  She gave him a little sad smile. “Oh we still have some fighting. The last major war was many years ago. I lost my mother, but I don't even remember her. My father raised me.”

  “I don't remember my mother, either. She was murdered, and my father drew me from her body, on her funeral pyre. But he didn't raise me. He left me with Cheiron, who raised me and taught me medicine.”

  “Oh my god, Aes, why did he do that? Why didn't he raise you himself? Don't tell me he was too busy. That's no excuse.”

  “Well, in a way, I'm lucky he saved me. Some say he was responsible for her death.” He looked at the ground. “After I was conceived, she fell in love with another, with me yet in her womb.”

  She was silent for a while. “Listen,” she said. “I have to get back to my Dad soon, but I don't want to leave you like this.” She put her hand on his bare shoulder. “I just want you to know that–”

  FLASH.

  “Thank the gods I found you,” said Farker. “We need to talk.”

  Darla pulled away from Aes, scowling. “Farker, did you take classes in poor timing, or is it a natural talent? This is not a good time!”

  “Well excuuuse me! Am-heh has left Egypt. Somehow he left that Realm and went to Realm of Bushido. He's looking for you, Darla.”

  She jumped to her feet. “And just how do you know that?” she challenged.

  Farker stared at her. “Are you kidding me? I told you, I'm CIO of PanGames. I have the grid diagnostic on my wall screen all the time now. The anomaly is gone from Egypt and there's an identical one in Bushido, Q.E.D.”

  “I meant, how do you know he's looking for me, in particular?”

  “Connect the dots. He sees you in Egypt dual-wielding swords. You vanish, get away from him. Then he manages to leave...and the first place he goes is one of the Realms where just about all they do is fight with swords! You really think it's coincidence? He's hunting.”

  “So what? I've never even been to that Realm.”

  “If he can change Realms at will, it's only a matter of time before he shows up here, or in Realm of Heroes. You've got to leave.”

  “And go where? I'm not leaving Aes to that...that thing.”

  “You're no help to Aes if you let yourself get eaten,” he retorted. “But I have an idea. Wait until he leaves Bushido, then go there.”

  “Why on the United Earth would I want to do that?”

  “Think about it,” Farker urged. “He's already looked there, so he'll be busy checking other Realms when he leaves it. Plus, the local reformatting will hardly affect your power set at all.”

  “We'll think about it,” she agreed. “But right now I have to check in with my Dad before he unplugs me. Stay with him until I get back, will you?”

  Flash.

  Farker looked at Aes. “She sure left in a hurry,” he commented.

  “Yes.” Aes regarded him. “You were right, you know.”

  “About what?”

  “That we need to talk. I remember what you said. In fact, I remember everything that has happened to me since I appeared here.”

  “You remember what I said? When?”

  “You said, 'I never programmed you for blood' when you saw me bleed the last time we were here. What did you mean by that?”

  Farker froze. “What do you mean, you remember everything?”

  “Exactly what I said. My memory seems to be sharper than it ever was before. Something is happening to me, and I want to know what it is.”

  Farker avoided eye contact. “You've been in unfamiliar surroundings, doing dangerous things. That sort of thing tends to overstimulate people. You could --”

  “Please stop,” said Aes. "You're trying to hide something from me. That much is obvious. Did you create Am-heh?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “And you want to stop him before he hurts more people?”

  “That's right.”

  “Then we are on the same side, Farker. How can I help if you keep secrets from me?”

  Again Farker looked away. “Not all secrets help, Aes. Not all secrets are about you.”

  “This one is about me. Why else are you so uncomfortable around me?” Aes asked him. “Is it about the difference between me and the others?”

  “I'm not sure I know what you mean,” said Farker.

  “Oh, I think you do,” said Aes. He held out his hand, palm down, over the grindin
g rock. Bright moonlight cast a shadow on the stone's surface. “Darla called this Realm a dream world,” he remarked. “Maybe it is. But it seems to me more like a world of shadows.”

  Farker frowned. “Shadows?”

  Aes wiggled his fingers. The shadow wiggled. He held out his other hand, and brought it near the other. Now two shadows wiggled on the boulder near each other.

  “Your Realms are a safe place to play, even to do battle, because shadows cannot hurt each other, although you can keep score and decide who wins.”

  “I guess you could imagine it that way,” said Farker.

  “The analogy is not perfect,” Aes admitted. “But it is useful, and therefore true in some respects. Shadow-play is an ancient art. We had it even in my time. I can imagine a time even further back, when men before the time of cities danced their shadows on the walls of caves, by the light of the first fires.”

  “Yes, well, all this is very interesting, but–”

  “You were surprised to see me bleed, Farker. From that, I know that you did not expect it. Did not believe it was possible. Do you know what that tells me?”

  “I can guess,” Farker said.

  “Allow me to guess. My guess is that you are the shadow-master. You know what can happen here, because you set it all up. And it surprised you to see one of your creations bleed.”

  “Slow down,” said Farker. “You're taking this analogy too far.”

  “I do not think so,” said Aes evenly. “From the context of your remark, I can infer that 'programmed' has to do with how shadows are described or constructed here. The implication is that you believe you made me.”

  Farker sighed, “'That we but teach bloody instructions which, being taught, return to plague th' inventor',” he quoted. “One of our poets wrote that,” he said, in answer to Aes's expression.

  “The puzzling thing,” Aes continued, “is that I exceed the limits of what you designed me to do. Darla and I just went through some violent fights in another of your Realms. She and her companion Sherman were beaten, stabbed, and shot with your modern 'gun' weapons, as was I. Yet only I bled. Do you know why?”

  “No,” Farker admitted. “I don't, and it bothers me...a lot.”

  “Of course it does. Would you like to know what I think?”

  Farker sat down on the grinding boulder. “I'm all ears.”

  Aes reached down and picked something up off the ground. He held it out for Farker to see. It looked like a tadpole sculpted from wood: a bulbous front with a tail-like fin extended from the back.

  “This is a maple seed,” Aes told him. “Blown here, no doubt from one of the many maple trees on Pelion. I can allow it to fall where the wind takes it,” he said, tossing it into the air and watching it spin down to the ground, “or I can decide where to plant it, and watch it grow into a tree.”

  “I'm no gardener,” said Farker.

  “It's only an analogy,” Aes reminded him. “Here's another. The tops of mountains are often covered with snow and ice. Lower, the ponds sometimes freeze over in the winters. Do you know what happens if you take a piece of ice and drop it into a lake that is getting cold enough to freeze?”

  “It floats,” Farker answered.

  “Irrelevant. It grows, Farker. New ice forms on the old, from the water around it. Like quartz in a cave, ice is a crystal. It can take on material from around it and grow larger.”

  “You've gone from tree to iceberg,” Farker commented.

  “Don't be obtuse,” Aes admonished. “Haven't you noticed that I am speaking your English now, and not the Greek you expected? Don't you want to know how I managed that?”

  “I see you've picked up contractions, too” Farker commented.

  “Whatever magic you wove to create this garden was more powerful than you dreamed,” Aes told him. “The simulacrum is incredibly detailed. It has powers you did not expect. In short, I think you have, without realizing it, fashioned a soulcatcher.”

  “A what?”

  “You heard me. Look it up later. Suppose you could weave a spiderweb with no spider. Spiders fly, did you know that? They've no wings, but they trail out a strand of silk and let the wind carry them where it will. Do you suppose that a spider landing in your artificial web would reject the imitation and start from scratch?”

  “No,” Farker replied, “I suppose it would welcome the chance to save time and energy and just add to the one it found. I think I can see where you're going with this.”

  “I thought you might. I think you have caught at least two of us in your garden. Two of the webs designed here have been good enough, or just lucky enough, to catch spiders blown on the winds of eternity. Even an empty cup, left outside, can fill itself with rain.”

  Aes stood up. “Think about it,” he said. “I'll be back in a little while.”

  Farker jumped to his feet. “Where are you going?”

  Aes collected a handful of maple leaves. “You saw me eat some food, earlier. Now I have to do something else you didn't design, Farker. I'm sure you can figure it out.”

  Chapter 38: Farker: “life's but a walking shadow”

 

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