Mobius

by Garon Whited

  I would be happier to watch it disappear, but I’ll take what I can get.

  I unsealed the Ellipse. My pet light didn’t even notice I’d locked it. I unbolted the door and let Leisel in.

  “I heard the… something,” she told me, stepping inside, sword still drawn. “Something terrible. Something… I don’t know. Hateful.”

  “I’m surprised,” I admitted. “I thought you better-protected.”

  “I’m not hurt. So, is it over?”

  “Yep. For now, anyway. Hopefully forever.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You seem tired.”

  “I think I have reason to be.”

  “Fair. Go rest. I’ll take the watch.”

  I started to protest, but what did I have left to do? All the rest of my projects were long-term things, mostly waiting on a far-distant time, like some prophecy. “There shall come a king to the land of Rethven, and he shall be known as the Demon King.” That’s when I’ll be busy. In the meantime, I have… time.

  Wow. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’ve been immortal for ages, but, aside from a mourning period in Apocalyptica, I never really had time on my hands.

  It feels weird. I also harbor a nagging, terrible feeling even this isn’t going to get rid of it for good. It’s like knowing there’s a wasp in the room. I heard it. It’s there. But I have no idea where it is or when it will come out again. So I move to another room and shut the door… but it’s only a matter of time before it finds its way under the door and I have a wasp problem again. But it will take a while.

  Still, I’m not good at doing nothing. It was a good night for dealing with demons. I sat down on my rock seat, leaned back, closed my eyes, and went inside to tackle some internal, personal ones.

  Tauta, 20th Day of Varinskir

  With the Orb hopefully dealt with—at least, for the foreseeable future—I didn’t need a mineshaft anymore. Come to that, I didn’t know what I needed. Oh, I planned to find a place for a temporary home and laboratory. Being on a world outside the ever-branching tree of Earth’s unstable timelines would give me a better perspective on the whole arrangement. Diogenes and I never worked out how being in a variable timeline while monitoring variable timelines would throw off all our observations. I might make real progress on identifying patterns.

  The next morning, I had my shower and breakfast. Leisel seemed uncomfortable.

  “Something wrong?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Is there?”

  “No. At least, I don’t think so.”

  “You’re quiet,” she pointed out.

  “I guess I don’t have much to say.”

  “Whenever I ask you anything, you usually natter on for ages—not that I follow most of it, but you talk a lot. Why not now?”

  “Why not, indeed.” I thought about it. “I guess it’s because I just finished a big project. I’ve been after that thing for years, trying to find it, contain it, kill it, whatever. Now it’s gone. I’m glad of it, but it’s a strange feeling to not be worried about it anymore.”

  “You’ve achieved a great victory. Now you have to find a new reason for living.”

  “Maybe so,” I hedged.

  I ate in silence for a bit and realized I wasn’t eating as much or as quickly as usual. Isn’t a loss of appetite a sign of depression? What business do I have being depressed? I won a major victory!

  Or was Leisel right? I had a goal, a major, material goal, an immediate, definite goal. Now what did I have? Goals, yes—but far-distant, nebulous goals. Save people in Rethven… eventually. Fix the pleasure-junkies… eventually. Kill the Lord of Light… eventually. Sure, I had smaller goals—find a real place to live, set up a laboratory, start experimenting with timelines, angels, and human brains, but all this is just temporary. Even if I build a fortress, found a kingdom, establish a religion, it’s no more than marking time until I catch up to the Karvalen era of Rethven.

  Boss?

  Hmm? Yes?

  Isn’t it all temporary?

  What do you mean?

  Look, dragons live a long time. Usually, something kills a dragon—most often, another dragon, but there are exceptions—rather than dying of old age. It’s been known to happen, but it’s rare, and it takes a few thousand years. Most of dragonkind aren’t immortal, but we do have a long-term perspective.

  I get it. Your point being…?

  You are immortal. You need to work on your long-term perspective.

  I’ve been working on it.

  Yeah, but you’re not using it now!

  I don’t follow.

  Oh, for the love of—look, Boss. Everywhere you live is a temporary home. Vampire attacks burn it down, the reactor goes critical, the moon-men bomb it to oblivion—something! You don’t have a permanent anything. The closest thing you have right now to a permanent home is your pet pyramid, and you know it’s not truly permanent. Right?

  Well… I don’t think of it in those terms.

  You should.

  All right, granted. Go on.

  So your mountain—

  Arthur.

  —with the stupid name for a mountain, Mount Arthur, fine. Even though it’s long-term, even it is still temporary. You’ll outlive it like you’ll outlive all of Karvalen. You’re immortal and eternal and everything is fleeting.

  You’re not improving my mood.

  I’m getting to a point, Boss. Bear with me.

  Fine. Your point is…?

  The way I see it, you have a choice—

  Bullshit. I’m trapped by destiny.

  Will you shut up long enough for me to finish? Firebrand demanded. Bronze echoed the sentiment, interested in what it had to say. Leisel glanced at me. I must have flinched at Firebrand’s mental shout.

  “Sorry,” I said aloud. “Thinking about the future.”

  “Can I help?”

  Yes, Firebrand said. Leisel’s eyes widened.

  “Did you just hear…?”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “Sorry about that. Firebrand isn’t usually so talkative.”

  “Firebrand?”

  “My sword.”

  Hello, Leisel. Yes, I’m a sword. I used to be a dragon. It’s a long, long story and not one we’re going to tell right now. The Boss and I are having a bit of a discussion. Please ignore him while I berate him for being an idiot.

  “Uhm. Maybe I should… see to the horse?”

  If you like. This shouldn’t take long if he’ll shut up and let me talk.

  “Yeah, uh, I’m definitely going to see to the horse. Shout when you’re done.”

  “I’ll do the shouting,” I told her and Firebrand. She grabbed her helmet and jammed it on her head in a hurry. She picked up her sword as she left the mine. I growled at Firebrand, “Don’t ever do that again.”

  Introduce myself? Look, Boss, I’m not your slave. I’m your friend, or as close as I can get to it, all things considered.

  “I’m not going to explore that.”

  Fine by me. You think you’re the only one with existential problems? I’m a goddam sword, not a four-legged, winged creature with armored hide, fire breath, and mouth suitable for chomping down on a bull dazhu! You’re not the only one with issues, okay?

  “Duly noted. Uh… do you… I mean, I recall the idea of cloning a dragon body on Apocalyptica. Were you hoping I could put you into it?”

  Yes and no.

  “What kind of answer is that?”

  An accurate one, Firebrand snapped. I would love to fly again, but I don’t want to be anything but a sword. I still remember and miss the—nevermind. There are good points and bad points to change.

  “There always are.”

  That almost sounded wise.

  “Something about a blind pig still sometimes finds a truffle,” I countered. “Before we sidetracked, you were trying to make a point.”

  Yes. You’re immortal. Everything is temporary, to you.

  “Got that.”<
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  No, you don’t.

  “I don’t?”

  You misunderstand me. You have your perspective all wrong. Ever since you chased the Demon King through an arch—practically speaking. Don’t get technical on me—you’ve been preoccupied with a thousand years from now. Everything is temporary, marking time, a side-project. Nothing matters, nothing is important, nothing is worth it. It’s all about a thousand years, ten thousand years, however long you have to wait until you catch up to yourself, and that’s wrong.

  Bronze agreed intensely, punctuating her emphasis with a snort of fire and a stomp. Firebrand I may ignore. Bronze, not so much.

  “So what’s the solution?”

  Boss, I’m not saying you need to give up on your ultimate goals. I’m not saying to ignore the “inevitable destiny” crap you periodically panic about. I’m saying if you think only in terms of the next millennium or two, you miss out on everything happening around you right now!

  “Such as?”

  Leisel, for one. She likes you, Boss. You’re the only male employer she’s had who hasn’t tried to mate with her. Plus, you may be weirdly wizardly along with being a warrior, but it only adds to your mystery and charm. To her, anyway. I’m not sure if you fail to see it because you’re an idiot or because it’s only a “temporary” arrangement.

  Then there’s this so-called plan of yours to build a house and live in it. You haven’t thought it through because you don’t—or won’t—devote much effort to it. It’s only another in a series of campsites, places to stay until you move on. It’s “temporary.”

  I’ve got news for you, Boss, Firebrand announced. It’s all temporary! Everything! So enjoy it! Get involved! Do things! Right now, you’re a dead man waiting to be resurrected on your personal judgment day. Which is a waste, since you’re obviously alive. Well, half the time, but you know what I mean.

  I stood up, paced around the chamber for a while, thinking. Did Firebrand have a point? Bronze thought so. Bronze did more than agree. She quietly told Firebrand to explain it in more verbal terms so I would have to think about it.

  My horse has more sense than I do. Which, come to think of it, is only to be expected.

  As I walked around the cavern, I noticed the ball of light was not in the Ellipse. Sure enough, it was following me. Well, if it wanted to float along in my etheric wake or something, it was welcome to. I went right on pacing.

  Was Firebrand—and, through it, Bronze—right? Should I be so concerned with the far future, my past? I have things I need to do, things to prepare for that future… but what about things to prepare for next year? Or next week? Or tomorrow? Do I sacrifice the present to the looming, ominous cloud of what is yet to come?

  How many humans do the same thing? Some live hand-to-mouth, paycheck to paycheck, focused on surviving today and tomorrow. Others think more long-term, focused on retirement goals and saving money and preparing for their financial future—all the while ignoring the emotional needs of their family.

  There has to be a balance. If I focus too much on my ultimate goals, I won’t pay enough attention to more immediate needs, which can get me killed. On the other hand, if my sole concern is to cope with my current situation, I won’t get the work done to make the changes I want in the future, which can get me killed. Assuming different laws of paradox, of course. It may be impossible for me to die because I’m paradoxically destined to fulfill a time-travel prophecy. Or it may be impossible for me to alter a Rethven future in any way. I can’t assume what’s true, though.

  Boss?

  “What?”

  I have an idea for your consideration.

  “What is it?”

  I’m not as clear on this whole possible paradox time-travel whatever as you are. I don’t understand any of it and don’t much care, to be honest. But aren’t you missing a bet?

  “How do you mean?”

  So far, as I understand it, your options are, A: stuck in a loop of predestination and doomed to do your stuff to make the future come to pass, or B: doomed to fail at altering the future because it’s fixed.

  “Those are the worst-case scenarios,” I admitted. “So?”

  Would it hurt to have a little optimism? I mean, clearly, the Orb went back and changed things. You, yourself, admitted its interference might have been the root cause of Rethven coming unglued.

  “So?”

  What if you have an opportunity here to do anything you want? You could be a free agent, able to alter anything you want, any way you want, and make a future.

  “I think that scares me more than the other two.”

  Boss, I’m not sure I’ll ever understand you.

  “Quite possibly. ‘Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself. I am large, I contain multitudes.’ Moreso than most, maybe.” Firebrand shut up and let me think.

  I hate being responsible. It means I have to think ahead and exert myself. Am I ever going to enjoy a nice, quiet, lazy situation again? Possibly, if I can avoid my fate at the hands of an angry mob. According to Sasha, I’m going to die holding them off so she can escape. I think I see a possible out, but I can’t be certain paradox will let me take it.

  But is it something I need to worry about now? Should I be more concerned with enjoying where I am and what I’m doing? Should I stop looking away to the horizon, to the future, and focus more on where I am? What I am doing?

  If I can’t trust a green muppet for life advice, who can I trust?

  I have a lot of research to do for future projects… but I have a lot of time. Do I need to work on them now, right now, to the exclusion of all else, with the obsessive fire of a maniac? Or do I need to work on them, yes, after I’ve set myself up in a good situation? Or are these the wrong questions—again? Should I be working toward my ultimate goals? Yes. But I should do what I can to enjoy the trip.

  Okay, fine. What can I do to enjoy myself? I guess it all depends on what sort of time differential I have. For example, if I have a dentist appointment in three hours, I shouldn’t plan a road trip. If I have nothing to do until next year, the road trip is on. Maybe that should be my first line of research. I’ll think about it, but it usually goes better if I have a comfortable place to work. It would probably be easier for me—and in accord with Bronze and Firebrand’s wishes—if I upgrade from this cave.

  I laid out the map on the worktable, warmed up my Ring of Spying, and did some aerial scouting.

  Tauta, 21st Day of Varinskir

  There are several qualities I look for in a home. Most people do. Some favor open floor plans, others want plenty of bathrooms, and a spacious kitchen is never a bad thing. Me? I generally want running water and nearby groceries. Anything else is a bonus.

  Trouble is, “nearby groceries” means people. Not always, and not necessarily often. Cattle, goats, even birds charmed down out of the sky will do, or mostly. There comes a point when I have to have a person. So, if I want to have a home, I have to put it at least reasonably near people.

  This is troublesome in this world. I don’t fit in it. Oh, I’ve made up the House of Lucard, sure. I’ve even made it a minor House with no major prospects. No doubt Hazir has told quite a number of people about it, doing me a favor by diverting attention from my “real” House and the supposed vendetta. Not bad for someone making it up on the fly! With some luck, it’s possible no one will go ask around in the northland cities, investigating. It depends on how far up someone’s nose I get by being me.

  Yeah, so, I’m going to get investigated. Given. Can I can bribe the priests for an auspicious augury? Probably, but I’d rather not deal with priests. Things can go so badly, so quickly.

  Instead, I’m thinking of a solution to all my situational problems. Build a house in the middle of nowhere, outside the usual control of the hereditary rulers.

  But what about people? I can’t avoid them forever. I’ll need some to live relatively close by, won’t I?

  Well, I’ll need to have something to attract them.<
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  What would that be?

  Freedom from a caste-oriented society?

  That’s gonna cause problems with the local government. From the looks of things, the majority of citizens will view it as dangerously chaotic. And the priests will view it as heretical, even antithetical to the local belief structure.

  True. What else do people want?

  A place to live, plenty to eat, and everything associated with prosperity.

  Prosperity?

  Money.

  Ah. Gold. I should build my house on a gold mine. That’ll bring in miners. Miners will bring in… well, everything else.

  It ought to work.

  So I looked through the mountains for places with gold. Sadly, I didn’t find any gleaming, golden outcroppings waiting to be dismantled. Since I’m not a geologist, I had to resort to more esoteric means of prospecting.

  Let’s take a bird’s-eye view. No, better, let’s take a satellite view. Keep the sensor inside the local firmament, but get a good chunk of the southwestern end of the mountains. Get out a gold coin. It’s the gold we want, so we’ll use the gold in the coin for a little sympathetic magic. A location spell, tied into the scrying view, can ping anything matching the sample—the gold—and give me a spot indicator on my mirror. Let’s see what we’ve got.

  Not much. Oh, there are a couple of hits, mostly out toward the ocean, but nothing big. Possibly worth panning for gold, but nothing to justify parking a community on it.

  All right, maybe somewhere else. But, before I look elsewhere, there are other precious metals. How about silver? It’s not as high-profile as gold, but it will do. Any silver deposits?

  Yes. More than one, and surprisingly large. A third look, this time for copper, had almost as many hits. How about iron? The Kasnakani Range had several good iron deposits. Coal? I found a few of those, as well, mostly toward the southern end.

  I tagged the places in my scrying mirror map and did some local checking to see how deep the deposits were. There’s a lot of rock in the way, but there’s also a lot to be found in them thar hills.

  If I start with the silver deposits—money being the grease to make every wheel go ’round—are there any silver deposits near other mineral deposits? Which silver mine would be near other mines? If I can mine silver, copper, iron, and coal—hey, wait a minute. Are all those near a valley? Why, yes, they are! Can we farm the valley? Yes, it’s a fairly large valley with a small river running through it, but it’s completely covered in forest. Inconvenient, but having to clear land like that means lumber is another resource…