Mobius

by Garon Whited

  Two out of three isn’t bad.

  Huh?

  Nevermind. Thank you for the evaluation.

  No problem, Boss.

  “May I ask where you heard these things?”

  “I have spoken with your friends among the warriors, as well as with those whose tongues wag at both ends.”

  “I have friends among the warriors? I think you mean, ‘friend.’ Singular.”

  “If you mean Hazir, then yes, I spoke with him. I have also traded words with Osric.”

  “He’s not my friend.”

  “He lives because you claimed his life and challenged any to come take it. He was your slave, however briefly. Yet you gave it back to him, all unasked. He speaks well of you.”

  “I’ll be damned.”

  “Won’t we all?”

  “Good point. I take it you’re between jobs just now?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know where I live?”

  “I know you live in a mine, in the Razikian Range. Mount Nalith, I believe. I do not know exactly where.”

  “It’s a bare, uncomfortable place. I have no servants, because I value my privacy. I will have to get you something to sleep on—that’s how barren my quarters are. I will also need you to keep silent, utterly so, about anything and everything you see. It will be boring, dull, and no fun whatsoever.”

  “You have obviously never had to march in an army.”

  “Hmm. Lead one? Yes. March in one? No. I see your point. But I’ll need your solemn word about keeping secrets. If you blab to anyone, I’ll have to try and hunt you down and kill you. It’s not a threat. It’s a statement of how serious I am about nobody meddling in my affairs.”

  We walked a dozen paces while she thought about it.

  “Do I get paid extra to keep quiet?” she asked.

  “Is your honor for sale?” I countered.

  She took a sharp breath, nostrils flaring, but made no immediate reply. Her left hand was on her swordhilt, but I wasn’t worried. It was rigged for a cross-draw by her right. It took her several seconds to relax.

  “I…” she started, and swallowed. She started again. “Your… observation… is well-taken. I apologize if I seemed…”

  “Insulted. You seemed insulted.”

  “Yes. Perhaps because there have been times when my honor has been… negotiable.”

  “It’s tempting, when you get hungry enough,” I agreed. “I’ve had times when I was so hungry, it didn’t matter who I killed.”

  “Then you understand.”

  “You have no idea how well I understand,” I told her. She cocked her head and regarded me as we walked along.

  “It was hard on you, wasn’t it? Who you killed.”

  “Some of them. But it is not a story I’ll tell today. Maybe not ever. Back to you. Can you give me your word and keep it? On this matter?”

  She didn’t answer immediately. I liked that. A snap answer either means the answer is obvious, or it’s one you haven’t thought about. I prefer a considered response. It gives better odds than fifty-fifty.

  “Yes.”

  Well, thought I, this should be interesting.

  “What do you usually get paid for guard duty?”

  “One silver a day, plus.”

  “Plus?”

  “Food, a place to sleep, the usual.”

  “Ah. Well, let’s find a shop selling bedding. Do you have a horse?”

  “No.”

  “It’s a long walk. We’ll get you a horse.”

  “I’d rather have money.”

  “I’ll get a spare horse and let you use it.”

  “You’re buying a horse just so I can ride?”

  “It’s a long walk to the mine. Besides, I’ll give it to you as a bonus if we part on good terms.”

  She didn’t know what to say. She accepted one of the rectangular gold coins as an advance on her wages and half a dozen more as funds for gear. She went off to shop for bedding and the like.

  I went shopping for a horse. Which is to say, I looked over horses and Bronze picked the one she liked. He was a lively gelding, deep-chested, probably with some draft animal in his ancestry. He looked strong enough to carry me, at least for a while. The same establishment also sold the appropriate tackle for horseback riding. In this place, they used a bit and bridle, but the saddle was unfamiliar to me. It didn’t have a saddlehorn at all. It reminded me of some motorcycle seats. I went ahead and bought the whole horse-care package—tools for hoof maintenance, a brush, horse blanket, the works, regretting all the while my rash promise. I’d forgotten how much maintenance goes into a flesh-and-blood horse.

  Leisel met me at the gate and lashed her belongings on the framework behind the saddle. She mounted up without difficulty. She might not own a horse, but she’s ridden them a lot. This surprised me until I recalled she mentioned caravan duty. A scout ahead? Or a guard behind? Or simply riding along with the wagons? I didn’t ask, since it didn’t matter.

  The trip out was somewhat longer than usual. We pushed her horse fairly hard, though. Bronze and I wanted to see what he could do. Once we were outside the walls of Sarashda, we picked up the pace and reached the mine in a little over an hour. Bronze was right. He was a good horse. He was also a bit of trouble. Bronze can come into the mine and stand around for hours, even days, without needing food, water, or a shovel. I’m unwilling to have a mortal horse in the same situation.

  With a little work, one of the ruined buildings could function as a horse shelter. He could roam all over, grazing to supplement the grains we’d bring in to feed him. Bronze assured me he wouldn’t wander off and I believed her implicitly.

  Leisel seemed less sure, but accepted my statement. It’s my horse, after all. He was in a hot lather from the hard pace, but by no means exhausted. I helped water him. She groomed the horse while I did some preliminary fixing on the makeshift barn.

  Walking up the mine road, she took note of the warning signs.

  “Thieves?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Good. The reflection in the empty spot is a nice touch.”

  “Thank you.”

  I checked the door. Nobody bothered it while I was out. I consulted my alarm spells and found no record of anyone even coming up the mine road, much less fiddling with the door.

  I’ll have to reset the spells, either with a password or a key. On the other hand, since she might be here a while, I can probably attune the spells to recognize her. It’s more complicated, but probably the safest course. I wouldn’t want her to pull a “Klaatu, Barada… Necktie? Nectar? Nickel? Noodle?” The result wouldn’t be as awful, but it would be bad enough for her.

  “You weren’t understating the barren nature of your quarters,” she observed, putting down her share of the gear and taking a turn around the cavern. “Anything down the tunnel?” she asked, as I started laying out more cooking utensils.

  “Aside from a long piece of pipe? No. More tunnels and a lot of water. Let me show you around. Bathroom area in here. Side tunnels. Pit with water at the bottom, so don’t fall in. Bathing area if you prefer a bath, but there are fish. Note the lamp brackets. They’ll be important later.”

  “It seems straightforward. Can anyone get in through there?” She nodded on down the tunnel before we turned back.

  “Not that I know of. Oh, someone can probably turn to mist and flow in, or breathe water and sneak through the undershafts, but if they’re going to so much effort, they deserve to get in and die a gruesome, bloody death.”

  “Understood.”

  “Oh, and this is currently my pet ball of light.”

  “Your what?”

  “You can’t see it? Right. Sorry. This ellipse on the floor is a magical containment diagram. Hang on a second and I’ll see if I can get the ball to glow for you.”

  “I don’t understand. Is your wizard out?”

  “Not exactly. Remember how you’re not telling anyone anything, no matter what?”

  �
��Yes.”

  I passed my hands over the ellipse, causing the containment field to twitch a little. It acted like a lens for detecting magic. The blue light was visible through the field. It was slightly different, now. It started as a pale homogenous blue, and had some vein-like lines of a darker shade, all radiating outward from the center like one of those plasma globes. Now the lines divided and re-divided as they extended toward the surface, thinning into near-invisibility. The colors of the veins were still predominantly blue, but the shades involved were much more varied than before. The light-ball shone less brightly, now that the dynamos were wired up to my altar ego’s crystal again. It parked itself contentedly between the two dynamos. Leisel blinked at it for several seconds.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m not sure, but it appears to be alive and perfectly happy to sit right there. I’m perfectly happy to let it while I try to figure out what it is.”

  “I’ll bear it in mind. It’s not… dangerous?”

  “It floated right through me, once, and I’ve touched it several times. I’ve yet to see any sign of capacity or inclination to harm.”

  “Good to know.”

  “For now, make yourself at home. I have to get some work done.”

  “A few questions, first?”

  “Sure.”

  “What’s the big tube for?”

  “A project I’m working on. You’ll get to see.”

  “All right. And what are we eating?”

  “Depends. Can you cook? —and I’m not asking because you’re a woman. I’m asking because I’m a terrible cook.”

  “Officially? No. I can cook over a campfire, if that’s what you mean.”

  “I’m about that level of skill, myself. Well, we have fresh bread, some fruit, some vegetables, a fair amount of meat, and two kinds of cheese. Lay your stuff where you want it and see what you can do for a meal. I’ll be busy for a few hours.”

  “I can do that. No servants?”

  “No servants I can trust to keep a secret, you mean?”

  “Understood.”

  It was a long day of tweaking crystals into more regular matrices, eliminating contaminants, and enchanting them into power storage units. Of course, once they were ready to be charged, I had to take them down the tunnel, find an old bracket to put them in, and cast another set of both power-fan and concentrator spells. This required me to cast my scryguard spells again, extending them down the tunnel as I used more and more of it.

  It was a busy day and, from a wizard-muscles standpoint, a hard one. I shouldn’t complain. Most Rethven wizards would be happy to call it a day after setting up one of my crystals. There are perks to being a chaos-infested monster. Or do I blame this on decades in an Ascension Sphere? Or is this more from my brief sojourn as a demigod? Or from rearranging my physical form to hold me again, afterward? Maybe it was all the dragon ichor I swallowed. Did fiddling with the power-points of Mary’s world, Nexus, have anything to do with it? Or was there something else? I’m losing track of all the things I’ve done, had done, or have been done to me.

  If I’d stayed on Earth, the first time, and never gone to Rethven, where would I be? What would I be? What’s “average” for a vampire of my sort, my original sort, of Sasha’s sort? Would I still be hiding from the Hand? Or would they have gotten me by now?

  By then, I mean. Later on. In the future.

  I sat down on a comfortable projection of rock and leaned back. Judging from the seat and the angle, I’d say a supervisor used to sit there, watching the laborers. I won’t say it was comfortable, but it was a good place to sit.

  Leisel didn’t say a word the whole time. I felt her watching me, at least at first, but everything I did was invisible to the untrained eye. Later, she went outside. Bronze went out to stand on the porch and watch. Leisel explored the road, the ruins of the mining village, and much of the hillside before she came back. Bronze followed her in. Leisel also gathered firewood, started a fire, and prepared a large snack.

  If she’s going to cook, we’re going to have to talk about portion sizes.

  As she put the food on the stone slabs I used for a worktable, I realized I needed chairs. I also discovered she didn’t expect to eat with me. I shoved a metal plate in her direction and nodded at it. She came back to the table and we ate together, standing up.

  “Al?”

  “Yes?”

  “May I inquire?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Eating.”

  “I mean, what were you doing all day? Staring at crystals?”

  “There’s a good question. I enchanted them to store magical energy.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Spells require magical power. Sometimes, spells require more power than can be readily gathered. While it is possible to spend more time in ritualistic spellcasting to gather the required power, I find it simplest to have crystals storing power in advance. It works best in a high-magic environment, but they multiply my effective effort no matter where I am.”

  “You sound like some sort of wizard.”

  I gestured a small, white ball of light into existence. Leisel dropped her fork.

  “But you’re a warrior!”

  “I multiclassed.”

  “But—but—but how? You can’t be! You were born of the warriors, weren’t you? Not born of the wizards?”

  “Why can’t I do both?”

  “Because you can’t!”

  I sent my illumination spell up to the ceiling and let it stay there. The light from the open door and my magic lanterns was enough, but it made a point.

  “Suppose you tell me why I can’t.”

  “Because we’re all given our place by the gods when we’re born. I was born to a warrior. My mother was a warrior and married a warrior. It’s my place.”

  “And if my father was a great warrior and married a woman who was a great wizard?”

  “If you’re the firstborn, then you’d be a warrior, inheriting the higher rank.”

  “And if my mother taught me to be a wizard while my father taught me to be a warrior?”

  “But you can’t.”

  “The hell I can’t,” I replied, annoyed at her insistence.

  “It would upset the order of the world!”

  “I’m sure the priests think so, but we’re not priests, are we?” Leisel opened her mouth to say something, closed it, thought about it. “Look,” I continued, “I swore you to secrecy about my affairs, did I not? As long as no one ever finds out, the world is safe. Right?”

  “I… I suppose.”

  “Fine. I won’t say anything, so the only person who could let my secret out is you. Was I right to trust you?”

  “…yes.”

  “Good. I’m pleased. Now, remember how I said the brackets would be important?” I deflected.

  “No? Wait, yes, I remember.”

  “These crystals charge best when separated by some distance. The brackets are where I put them. Please leave them there. I’ll be fetching them myself when I need them, and I have a system.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now that we have the first horrible surprise out of the way and most of a day behind us, is there anything you want to say? Anything you need?”

  “Do you have a kettle? Cooking in a pan or on a spit is all right, but I would like to make tea. Do you have any tea?”

  “I’ll get some on my next trip to town.”

  “One more question. Why does your horse get to stay up here while the other one stays down there?”

  “Slap her.”

  “Sir?”

  “Go over to her and slap her. Hard.”

  Leisel approached Bronze. Bronze waited patiently. Leisel slapped her shoulder and snatched her hand back. She touched Bronze again, stroking her, puzzled.

  “She feels strange.”

  “Doesn’t she, though? You two sort yourselves out. I’m going to stand in a waterfall. I’ve h
ad a long day.”

  As an aside, if you’re going to magically heat a small waterfall, don’t leave the spell running. If it expires in the middle of your shower, the water goes instantly ice-cold again.

  With sunset over and my cleaning regimen complete, I made sure my amulet’s disguise spells were engaged before I came out of the tunnel. In the front cavern, I was presented with a strange sight. Bronze was on her right foreleg in the equivalent of a one-handed handstand—for a horse. She dropped down quietly, but with a perceptible shock through the floor. A second later, there was a cracking kaboom! At first, I thought it was something she did, but I heard the thunder again from outside. It was about to rain.

  Leisel turned to me, fascinated and amazed.

  “She’s metal!”

  “Yep. People often don’t notice.”

  “How does she move?”

  “Very well, as you’ve seen. She’s been quite accommodating to your requests, hasn’t she?”

  “Oh, yes. She’s very friendly, and she can do things no horse ever could.”

  “You haven’t even scratched the surface. Now I have more work to do. Got your sleeping arrangements sorted out?”

  “I’ve laid out my bedroll in one of the side tunnels.”

  “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Where do you sleep?”

  “Probably the Cretaceous, but it hasn’t come to that, yet.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I apologize. I’m being cryptic again. It’s a hazard. We’ll trip over the flaws in my character for a while. For now, you get some rest. I’ll make a run into the city tomorrow, weather permitting. If so, you’ll be on your own for a while.”

  “All right.” She headed down the main tunnel.

  I collected my first, best-charged power crystals. I planned to grab several more components to my air cannon. Fetching back the Orb and disposing of it is my project right now. Given the troubles I’ve had, it’s my project and my priority. Everything else can go hang for a bit. This, at least, I am going to get done, get over with. If I don’t, the goddam Orb will be a problem when I least expect it. The damned thing is getting put away so I can focus on getting bigger things done!

  Now, what do I want to grab next? More manifold pipes, certainly.