by P. S. Power
There were about fifteen really good ways it could be a trap, but Tor was hoping that it would be something simple, like Denno was really just a prisoner, and Tor could go in and get him out, then meet Burks out in the ocean. If that didn't work, if he wasn't stripped of his “trinkets” Tor could fly out on his own. Either way would be alright, he had amulets for nearly everything consolidated around his neck on three pieces, instead of the near twenty he had a week prior. He'd also worked devices into his toothbrush and the container that held his toothpaste. They didn't have sigils, but if stripped of everything he could shield himself and fly away in a fast carriage. Worse come to worse, he could rebuild anything he needed in a few hours.
The boat moved decently for something its size and only took ten days to get all the way to Austra, which Tor appreciated. The longer they took, the worse his anxiety would be. To cut down on it and pass the time, Tor meditated, being careful not to do anything that would show off any visible magic to the crew. Not that they’d recognize as such at least. His clothing was, but no one seemed to care that it changed periodically and stayed clean.
He wore a shield all the time, but didn't let it activate. Most of the men on the ship, and they were all men, seemed to think that magic was a superstition that didn't do much of anything at all and that the military of Noram just used tricks to try and fool the people they fought into thinking that their scientific equipment was magical for some reason. Just a ploy to throw people off. A few seemed to think that “magic” was just what Tor’s people called science.
Well, if that helped them sleep, who was he to say otherwise?
Really Tor didn't see why they thought that way. Wouldn't it be easier just to admit that there were other ways to do something? For instance, he knew that magic was real, but also that the Austrans did some similar things using different techniques. Their stuff worked from the physical down, instead of the mind out, at least originally, but it all worked. Afrak did a bit of both really, but with living creatures. His own magic aside, a lot of builders used some physical mechanisms to do work. Locks were often just a tiny device incorporated into a moving arm that was actually what stopped someone from getting in, but most people used keys for that, which worked just as well, prestige of owning something magical aside.
If he could see there was more than one way, why couldn't these men? Denno Brown might make sense, if he couldn't help it, but these were just regular people. Why believe something so clearly incorrect?
Everyone was polite to him, but most didn't speak much, he picked up the accent quickly enough, since it was closer to Noram standard than his own native tongue. Burks had started him working on it days before they got to the ship. Part of a contingency plan Tor had been told. A layered plan so that when it all fell apart they knew what to do instead. It made sense, but made everything far more complicated than he really felt comfortable with. Get too complicated and things always went wrong, at least as far as he could tell.
They fed him three meals a day, the food greasy, funny tasting and heavy in his stomach, but that really could have been nerves. Everything was canned or possibly frozen first, which effected the flavor, but Tor wouldn't complain. It was what everyone else was eating and they wouldn't have anything else on the ship most likely.
When they reached the port Tor felt a chill. It was gray and joyless, the pier itself some kind of stone, which should have been interesting and durable, but it had a neglected feeling as if it was just there until the next one was put up. A similar focus stone structure would have lasted centuries, even in the water. This thing couldn't have been thirty years old, and needed massive repair already. In places he could see large metal bars buried in the rock itself, almost a part of it. That was odd, but he could see ways of doing that, if not why.
The ship came in slowly, so by the time the gangplank, what the sailors called the ramp, was in place, Tor stood with his little bag of toiletries, ready to go. Glancing below he expected to see the military waiting, or possibly a surgery set up so that Lilli could have him emasculated without pause. Instead there was just a familiar girl, wearing a strange one piece garment that had arms and legs, but attached in the middle, everyone wore something similar it seemed from what he could see. She smiled up at him, waving happily.
Whee. The bride to be.
Tor strolled down, trying not to frown at her. If she thought he'd go down easy, she was sorely mistaken. He felt for the trap, the men laying in wait, but no one was around at all, except her.
“Tor!” She called out as if they were old friends and she hadn't hacked Yardley Principle to death with a cutter. Because the girl had wanted to keep Ali from being sold as a sex slave. More exactly because Yardley, a tall dun colored girl, had spoken out against what Lilli had wanted. Daria Serge. Glost Serge’s daughter.
“Tor, over here!” She actually waved excitedly.
Tor decided to steal the march. If they were going to be at each other’s throats, cowering from the insane girl wouldn't help, would it?
“Daria,” he made his voice polite and almost friendly. “I was thinking about your ideas for the wedding night and decided to skip that and go with my plan instead.”
Tilting her head as if curious she spoke, a cautious tone instead of just crazy.
“What’s that?”
“Well, instead of me being used by all those men, sodomizing me to death and all that, I was thinking we could tie you up and offer you to all comers on the street. We'll take you in during the day and ensure plenty of lube, so you should be able to go on for a long time. That would be way more fun, don't you think? And last longer too. It's important to pace the adventures you know. Fools rush in, and all that.” He made his voice chipper and light, but still felt a shock of surprise at what she did next.
She clapped her hands.
“Oh, goody! Someone that will actually play back. I was worried you'd be all boring after we got married. Your pretty, granted, but your reputation has you as almost virginal for a Noram elite. Dad says I have to keep you around, but won't say why. Leverage probably. Anyway, I'm staying at the complex, you know, government house? Our “palace” I guess. Dad’s place. We could get a room though, or if you don't want me around, you could rent a hotel. Dad will cover it. He's kind of looking forward to meeting you, if you’re willing.”
That… was not what he expected. He was being given options and not even ordered to go and meet with Serge? Very different indeed.
The sad part being that, while he didn't trust her current half sane behavior, he kind of needed to get in to that complex. From what Burks had guessed, Denno should be there, probably in the lower levels. But the place was huge. Finding him would be a chore and maybe take more than a casual meeting and a cup of tea. Maybe impossible. For the seventh time in the last ten minutes Tor wished that they'd bought the whole Burks substitution thing. That wasn't the plan anymore, so he needed to just deal. Right now he had to pick and the mission meant he had to pick going and staying with a mad man.
How exciting. Fear counted as a kind of excitement, didn’t it?
“Oh, well, I don't really know my way around and if we have to marry, I might as well stay with you, right? Seriously though Lilli… don't try anything with me until it's time to fight to the death, and then, I kind of recommend running.” It was even true. That was his personally preferred method of dealing with problems that could lead to violence. She'd take it as a threat, but that was her problem, wasn't it?
“What makes you think we brought you here for something bad? Worse things could happen than getting married you know. I once knew a girl that was hacked to bits by an invisible magic sword for instance…”
It was a counter threat, hidden behind an innocent smile, her one green eye looking happy, the brown one looking sad. Of course that was his eye, looking back. Or more to the point, his friend Petra's eye, since he used her to develop the healing device template for women. Instead of acting all shocked or angry Tor just nodded.
“Yeah. But you don't have magic here do you? I'm surprise you haven't worked out how it's done honestly, it's not like the techniques are secret or anything. Just takes a bit of discipline. I can show you how even, if anyone wants to learn. Shall we go?”
He was tempted to whip out a carriage and float through the city above the streets but Lilli, Daria he corrected in his head, already had a vehicle with her. A two wheeled contraption that she sat astride and that rolled down the street with a soft whirring sound. He was supposed to sit behind her and grab around her middle. It sounded like a lark to him, a game to embarrass him, but he did it anyway. It suddenly felt important to hide as much magic in this place as possible. It probably wouldn't help, but teasing them about their lack wouldn't aid anyone and he had a job to finish.
The “palace” was a large house, but boxy and plain compared to the lavish houses and estates he was used to seeing. The outside was a soft gray stone looking material and the inside was white as chalk and had bright red flooring. They'd tried to decorate, but it seemed like they'd either failed or the taste of the Austrans was far different than what he was used to. Subdued and colorless except the red of the floor. A whole lot of beige.
He was taken to see the premier almost the second they got in the door, Daria running like a small girl, her voice happy.
“Daddy, daddy! Tor's here to marry me! Can you believe he actually came? He hasn't even tried to kill me yet. That means he likes me, doesn't it? He's so dreamy.” Giggling, she spun in her bland light tan suit, made of something light like cotton, it was baggy but had some give to it.
Just like her personality. Each time she turned around she affected a different “crazy” personality. After a while Tor simply sensed her field, looking for the signs of madness. What he found instead was a calm mind that had good focus. She wasn't insane at all, she was faking it to throw him off. Turning to face her slightly Tor waited and watched. So this was a trick? Well, the least he could do was act like he was going along with it.
“Hello! Sorry for just popping in like this, but the relatives kicked me out. I tried to send my grandpa instead, since this is all his fault, but your ship’s Captain was too clever for that. Nice to meet you in person.” Tor held out his hand country fashion an arm stretched back towards him. Surprisingly the man took it in a firm, but polite grasp and shook properly, without the hesitation Tor was used to from royals back home.
“Oh, so good to meet you too. Tell me Mr. Baker, do you like chickens? I have one. I call her bossy. Horrible nag. Oooh, I was going to offer to introduce her, but I forgot I had her killed last week, never listened to a word I said. Don't you hate that?” He grinned, his eyes nearly blank as he spoke.
This was an act too.
Dressed in his military clown outfit, bright blue and red piping all around, with its bright gold buttons that, close up, were scratched, showing steel underneath and looking shabbier than in the pictures of him that had appeared from Burks’ special communication device in the palace meeting room nearly three months before. It was a put up to make Tor think he was insane.
What the man himself didn't really get was that it wasn't an act.
Sure, he wasn't going to suddenly wet himself and caper like a jester, not for real, but his mind wasn't balanced at all. In his world everything revolved around him, his wants, his needs. When that didn't happen Glost got angry, and when he did, he removed his enemies with force. Always. But he thought that was sane and his current behavior was just a ruse for the Noram bumpkin. A man so stupid he didn't even know magic wasn't real, that all he'd done was technology and luck. Happenstance being fit into a shape his feeble mind could cope with.
Tor could work with that.
“Hey, I don't want to be rude, but you know, the magic has to be fed, would it be possible to get something to eat soon? If not I can wait, but I've only eaten ship food for a while… Oh! I know, why don't we have my brother join us!” Tor smiled happily and explained that he meant the Brown man. Glost didn't think much of the idea, but Daria liked it.
“He's pretty, get these two together and we could make such a delicious sandwich.” Tor didn't get the reference, but the woman jiggled from foot to foot, shifting as she explained. “You on the outside, me in the middle, him on the other side. Or, well, we could put you in the middle. All you Noram nobles like kinky stuff right? I could just eat you up. Possibly cut into steaks.” She acted like she was considering it, but really didn't care at all. Honestly, when he got what she was thinking and feeling, she wasn't even amused by what she was saying, it was just to help solidify her act. It felt almost dismal really. Everything she did was meant to keep her father happy. Even killing Yardley had been. Though he couldn’t pick up why the girl had to die at all.
The only thing he did get was that it wasn’t over Ali.
Tor nodded.
“I'd be too stringy and small for a good meal. Maybe if we had that chicken instead?” Tor had to pretend his goal wasn't Brown. If they thought he had a plan, they might not let him see the Ancient at all. Ideally he could eat dinner down in his cell or close by, even if they locked him up if they failed to take his amulets, he could to it, maybe without any of the devices he'd brought if they gave him enough time. A day or two? Rebuilding would be a pain, but Tor had come ready for it, if that's what was required.
The Premier clapped and pretended to be giddy at the idea of eating the chicken, but couldn't think of an excuse to not have one on hand, that made him a little angry, but Tor derailed it with a shrug and a hint, letting Serge out of the whole thing without getting mad. It wouldn't help to have a homicidal freak losing his cool. Not yet at least.
“Unless she was breakfast of course. Totally understandable. In that case we should take Denno a pie. People like pie, right? Tell, me, is… Is he… scary in person?” The idea was ridiculous, but he was the pretend magic Noram bumpkin, wasn't he? Denno was one of the most beautiful people in the world, if he held true to what his image when shown in lifelike realism for Tor and the royal family. Scary just wasn't the word that Tor would have used for the man. Delicate might fit, but so far none of the old Ancients seemed weak at all, even if smaller than a lot of people. Efficient came to mind when he looked at them. Tidy and easy to keep fed.
Tor made himself seem worried though, not really certain why at first, but the fields felt right for it. After about five minutes of talking, it became apparent why, since Glost started insisting that he have dinner with Denno that very night. From the words Tor figured he was about to be locked in with the fellow, or maybe attacked, the edgy stress of the brightly clothed man growing as they talked. He didn't want Tor to meet with Brown, who was a prisoner, which made sense on so many levels, but on the other hand Tor’s discomfort at the idea acted like a goad, pushing the man into the idea.
Daria sneered and pushed him too, working in perfect time with her father. Tor got it now, or at least a small part of it. She wasn't insane, or even spoiled and self entitled, not really. She was a survivor. Daria Serge didn't want to die. In this case that meant not going against her father, no matter how foolish he was being.
Right. Lessons from those that had been there. Trying to play with this man would backfire if he tried to do it for too long. Especially if he said no to something.
“All… right, sir…” Tor said, trying to sound reluctant now that both of them were pushing for it.
“You know best. Oh… Um, here… I have something for you.” It was a letter from Afrak he was supposed to hand over to Glost Serge. From Lara Gray herself. Tor didn't know why, but kind of figured it would be a problem, possibly an assassination attempt. The man took it, but didn't open it or even act interested.
Before Tor could play it up or even try to think of doing something more, Glost called for a full meal, chicken, though not, he assured Tor “Bossy the chicken”, to be served in Browns cell. No hesitation about calling it a cell, but on the word both the others suddenly went on alert and stared at him as
if expecting a violent outburst.
Tor gave them outward boredom and a small wave of his left hand.
“Has he done something then? Or is he just always getting in the way like Burks does? I never thought to lock him in somewhere. Tell me how you managed it and I might just try and pull that off with him next time we meet.” Tor made his voice a little bored and sullen, not having anything better on short notice.
“Ha! I forgot for a moment that you knew one of the old timers yourself. Yes, rather busy group of people, aren't they? I won't lie, he got in the way of my plans, so I locked him up, but it wasn't anything illegal on his part. Kind of refreshing that you understand. I was worried that you'd be difficult on that score. I'd have had him killed, but Daria loves him so. Can't let him out or he'll ruin everything. They always do, don't they?” Mad eyes, the real insanity this time, shone from the leaders face. It was an earnest look, one that called for support.
It was also probably fair from the guy’s perspective, so Tor grinned and nodded.
“You have no idea sir. Why just a few weeks ago Burks was hitting me just for not learning something fast enough. I mean a real beating too, not just a few taps or slaps. He gets thousands of years to do it, but I can't figure it out in a few days and I'm suddenly stupid? They're all too far from being young to remember what it was like I think. It probably has to happen over that much time, but seriously how hard is it to remember that regular people aren't thousands of years old?” Tor sounded put out, but then he had been at the time, a little. He got the idea that he needed to hurry, but… yeah. It really was annoying being beaten like that.
Glost clapped happily, anger on his face, but not anger at him, so at least there was that. Daria followed suit, acting giddy, her eyes showed shrewdness though, watching Tor as if suspecting that he was pulling something. He was, so Tor couldn't fault her on picking it up. It was ham-handed and rough of him, but the best he could come up with in the moment.