“It’s pretty goddamn unlikely, three different universes, that different, where the same species and the same language happened,” Ted remarked. “That’s the biggest flaw in the story so far—and there are plenty of flaws.”
“Given an infinite number of realities,” Prossie said, turning slightly to address the recumbent lawyer but staying at attention, “and we have no reason to think that the number is any less than infinite, the same species and language would have to recur somewhere, eventually.”
Ted shifted and leaned the recliner further back. “I don’t buy it,” he said, “but go on with your story.”
Prossie nodded. “There isn’t much more. The Empire’s been sure for a long time that Shadow is hostile and dangerous, and we wanted allies against it. Earth looked like a promising possibility. Telepathic contacts weren’t clear and reliable enough, however, so the newly- developed space warp technology was used to send a diplomatic mission to your largest and most powerful nation.” She shrugged. “And here we are.”
“The United States isn’t the largest nation on Earth,” Susan protested.
Prossie slipped from her brace and stared. “It’s not?” she asked.
“China is,” Rachel piped up from the doorway. “They told us that in kindergarten.”
“The United States is the largest country that speaks English,” Nancy pointed out.
“That would explain it,” Captain Cahn said.
“That’s who you are,” Ted said from his chair. “But who the heck are they?” He pointed at Raven and Valadrakul.
“We gave our names, sir,” Raven said, a trifle stiffly.
Ted shook his head. “I mean, who the heck are you? Are you good guys, or bad guys, or what? You said you weren’t on Shadow’s side, so are you on the Empire’s side?”
“We are on our own side,” Raven retorted.
“All right,” Pel said. “But it’s a good question—what side is that?”
Raven made a derisive noise. “Think you,” he said, “that though all be conquered, even Shadow can control everything utterly? Think you that, though the fortresses fall, none will continue to bear arms ‘gainst the tyrant? I and mine are those who have refused to give up, who have fought on beyond defeat.”
“Could you be a bit more specific?” Ted asked.
Raven glared at him.
“Yes,” Captain Cahn said. “I wasn’t aware of any native resistance to Shadow’s rule. Who are you, and how many? How are you organized?”
“Do you think me a fool?” Raven asked, annoyed. Then he stopped, and grinned. “Aye, perchance you do, after that exhibition I made but moments ago. And who could blame you? Yet I’m not such a fool as all that, and I’ll not give away secrets before this many, when almost any of you could be a thing of Shadow.”
Several of those present glanced uneasily at each other at this suggestion. Prossie realized she was still standing, and sank back onto the couch.
“This is all crazy,” Amy muttered.
“Can’t you tell us anything useful?” Lieutenant Drummond asked.
Raven turned to Valadrakul; the wizard said, “There are many of us, working ‘gainst Shadow—but we are scattered, and needs must work in secret. We have organized ourselves in small councils, with no more than a dozen in each, and none but the leader of each council knows any save those within his own group—thus, should we be betrayed, no more than a dozen shall be found and slain.”
“Cells,” Pel said. “Revolutionary cells.”
“And likewise, none save the innermost councils, of which those here have no part, can know our true numbers,” Raven pointed out.
“So the four of you make up one cell in this underground?” Pel asked.
“Half a council, rather,” Donald volunteered.
“Why didn’t you all come?” Captain Cahn asked. “Seems to me that at least you’d be safe here.”
Raven shook his head. “Nay,” he said.
“Why not?” Cahn persisted.
“I should not say,” Raven said, “for I know not whether any of you are tainted by Shadow, nor how far word might spread if spoken here. I’d not have any more known than I must.”
“I think it’s safe enough here,” Pel said. “We’re all of us opposed to Shadow, aren’t we? Captain Cahn, you and your crew must have been checked over by telepaths before you were sent through the warp.”
Cahn nodded. “We were, indeed,” he said.
“And Shadow hasn’t discovered Earth yet,” Pel pointed out. “So none of us could be spies.”
“We know not whether Earth has been found,” Valadrakul corrected him.
Pel dismissed the matter. “Even if it has,” he pointed out, “there are five billion people on Earth; what are the chances that any of the seven of us here would be spies?”
“Fair enough,” Raven said, after a moment’s consideration. “Well, then, the truth is that we cannot all be safe here, for three of our council are wee folk—gnomes, as they were once known—who cannot abide this place. And another is the sorceress who maintains the portal; were she to step through, and her magicks thereby fail, we would all be trapped here.”
Lieutenant Godwin growled. “We are trapped here, I’d think.”
Cahn threw him a warning look, and he fell apologetically silent.
“Captain,” Raven said, “can you return home, an we allow it?”
“I can’t say,” Cahn replied, shortly.
“He probably doesn’t know himself,” Nancy whispered in Pel’s ear.
“If not,” Raven said, “we have something to offer you, for your good services.”
Cahn cocked an eyebrow at the black-clad foreigner. “And what might that be?” he asked.
“Our sorceress, Elani, has stolen Shadow’s gateway spell, and has opened our portal to Earth—and likewise, she can open a portal to your Empire, and thereby send you home.”
Prossie made a noise; Pel glanced at her, and she looked away.
Chapter Ten
“An interesting proposition,” Cahn said, in his most noncommittal tone. “And what sort of payment would you want for this service?”
“Why, ‘tis obvious, is’t not?” Raven asked, spreading his hands. “We wish your aid against Shadow.”
“Our aid?” Cahn grimaced. “Mister, we’re just ten men—ten people, rather.” One hand made a vague gesture in Prossie’s direction. “We’ve got a ship and weapons that don’t work here, and that might not work in your universe, either—so what difference will ten men make against a force that has already conquered a world?”
“You are part of the Imperial Fleet, are you not?” Raven asked. “Yours but a single ship in a vast armada, with the power to lay waste whole kingdoms in mere days?”
“Oh, sure,” Lieutenant Drummond said. “But the Imperial Fleet is there, and we’re here. We’re just the crew of one ship.”
“Besides,” Godwin added, “as the captain just said, the Fleet’s weapons are based on the same principles as the captain’s blaster that didn’t go off a few minutes ago. They won’t work here, and probably won’t work on your world, either. We’re disarmed—just like your wizard.”
Raven ignored Godwin and addressed Drummond. “You are the crew of a diplomatic vessel,” he pointed out, “sent as envoy, and empowered to make pact on behalf of your Emperor.”
Pel considered Godwin’s comments as Cahn said, “Our authority isn’t as broad as all that. We’re more a negotiating team than an embassy; anything we agreed to would have to be approved by higher authority, maybe by the Emperor Himself.”
“Indeed?”
Cahn nodded. “In fact, the main thing we were sent to negotiate was an exchange of ambassadors. We sure don’t have the power to declare war and send the entire Imperial Fleet through a warp to fight Shadow, if that’s what you were hoping for.”
“Raven,” Pel said, “there’s something here I don’t understand. If magic doesn’t work in the Empire, and the Imperial technolo
gy doesn’t work in your world, how can they fight?”
Raven blinked in surprise. “Friend Pel,” he said, “what mean you?”
“I mean,” Pel said, “how can Shadow do anything to the Galactic Empire if magic doesn’t work there? And how can the Empire do anything to Shadow?”
Raven turned to Valadrakul, who said, “A good point, sir. Howsoever, there is some magic that can effect its purpose in other realms, even while it cannot be conjured there. Consider the gateway spell that manifests in your own cellars—the magic lies entirely in our own world, and yet it functions both ways. Likewise, consider the magic of the mind that these good people call telepathy.” The wizard mispronounced the word, but as he gestured toward Prossie, Pel figured out what he meant. “It works not a whit here, and this maiden can no more hear your thoughts now than can any other.
Several people cast startled glances at Prossie or each other at this revelation. Valadrakul continued, unperturbed. “Yet from their own land, these mind-readers can know what others think in all our varied realms.”
Pel nodded. “Still doesn’t seem like Shadow’s about to conquer the Empire,” he said. “Or for that matter, that the Empire’s about to conquer Shadow. I mean, if each side’s major weapons don’t work in the other one’s worlds...”
“Ah, but Shadow’s greatest strength is of value in either realm!” Raven said, interrupting.
“Its creatures, you mean,” Prossie said.
“Exactly,” Raven said. “Its homunculi can live in the Empire, and fight there, as can those true humans who are base enough to choose slavery to Shadow over death in resistance.”
“The monsters died, though,” Prossie pointed out. “At least most of them. And the miniatures, too.”
“Gnomes,” Donald muttered.
“And which would you rather face,” Raven asked, “some misshapen thing brought from nightmare, or a well-drilled army? A beast, or a trained assassin?”
“Good point,” Cahn conceded.
“And Shadow can be persuasive,” Raven said. “Doubt me not, there are those among your own people who would yield willingly to its blandishments, and serve it of their own will. There were such among my own kin.”
At that, Stoddard growled—the first sound most of those present had heard from him. Squire Donald spat in disgust, and Pel heard Nancy gasp at the sight of that.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered to her. “It’ll come right out of the carpet.”
Cahn nodded toward Raven. “I’m sure you’re right,” he said. “We’ve had trouble with spies and traitors before, and I doubt we’ve managed to breed the tendencies out of the human species in the last few years.” He grimaced. “And as Thorpe told you, we’ve already had problems with Shadow’s creatures infiltrating the Empire. Telepaths can spot them, or x-rays, but we only have four hundred telepaths out of thirteen billion citizens, and it’s not practical to march everyone past a fluoroscope. Furthermore, Shadow seems to be able to send in duplicates and replace genuine people, so that the checks can’t just be done once, they need to be repeated constantly. So we have spies among us, I’m certain.”
“I think we all agree that Shadow has to be stopped,” Drummond said. “The question is, how?”
“And your answer?” Donald demanded.
Drummond shrugged. “I don’t have one,” he said.
Cahn expanded upon that. “The Empire is preparing for war,” he said. “We’re stockpiling ships and weapons, and if ever Shadow attempts the open occupation of any part of Imperial space, it will find us ready to retaliate. We’ll blast any colonies we find right out of space. And we’re stepping up our security measures—of course, I couldn’t give you details, even if I knew them, for fear of compromising them. We’re doing everything we can to locate and stamp out any attempts at infiltration. When we find Shadow’s creatures, we kill them, immediately.”
“A noble effort, to be sure,” Raven said, with a note of sarcasm creeping into his voice, “but knowing that Shadow’s spies in your Emperor’s kitchens will be found and slain gives me no great hope for the liberation of Stormcrack Keep.”
“Nor Benton,” Donald added.
“Nor anywhere else in our world,” Valadrakul agreed.
“Hey,” Godwin protested. “Who appointed us your rescuers, anyway? We have our own homes to worry about, first!”
“And would your homes not be best served,” Raven demanded, “by encompassing the utter destruction of Shadow and all its creations, rather than nibbling away at its outer defenses?”
“Of course that would suit our long-term interests,” Cahn said. “And it’s just that, a long-term goal. As yet, we have no way to achieve it.” He gestured at Pel. “We’d hoped that these people could give us a weapon to use against Shadow, but I doubt that these super-bombs of theirs would work in your space.”
“You can’t get any anyway,” Pel pointed out.
Cahn drew his blaster, hefted it, pointed it at the ceiling, and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened, not even an audible click.
“Back home,” he said, “that would have blown a two-foot hole through the roof. Here, nothing. Our weapons don’t work here, and we don’t think they work in Shadow’s world, either.”
“Nor do they,” Raven acknowledged. “We’ve tested them.”
For a moment nobody spoke; Pel took them all to be absorbing the implications. Among other things, it was an admission that Raven’s people had visited the Empire, and had obtained weapons there.
But they hadn’t done so openly.
“Well, then,” Cahn said finally, “what do you want us to do, when our weapons won’t work?”
“Some weapons work everywhere,” Raven said, his hand dropping to the hilt of his sword. “Your Empire has great resources, thousands upon thousands of men and machines—you spoke of a populace numbered thirteen billions. Could you not make swords as easily as those... those things you carry? Could not your armies march ‘gainst Shadow, as did those of Stormcrack Keep in my youth?”
“And where are those armies of your youth now?” Cahn demanded. “Why should we send our people to be slaughtered by that thing’s magic?”
Raven frowned, and shifted his weight to his other foot before replying, “And what of your science? What of other weapons? We know that what you bear will not function, but have you no other armaments? We know little of what will or will not serve, in any of our three worlds; there may well be weapons known to you, and unknown to Shadow, that would serve as well in our world as your own. We know not whether this world’s mighty bombs can destroy Shadow’s fortress; mayhap they can, mayhap they cannot. Perhaps your magicians, your science- wielders, can discover ways to shield against Shadow’s spells; perhaps the men of your world are not as susceptible to those spells as are mine. Dare we not venture the attempt?”
“I’ll order the pizza,” Nancy whispered in Pel’s ear. “I figure five large pies.”
He nodded, and she slipped away.
“I’m sure,” Cahn said, “that when the Empire has had time to prepare, we will make an attempt. The Emperor doesn’t want Shadow there any more than you do, but there’s no point in throwing away resources in a premature attack.”
“So you wait, and wait—seven years, now, since first Shadow showed its hand in your realm?”
“Seven years, yes,” Cahn agreed. “But we haven’t been waiting idly—if we had, I wouldn’t be here talking to you.”
“Not idle, perhaps, yet you wait,” Raven insisted. “And I fear that when at last the Empire sees fit to strike, I’ll be long in my grave, and our councils lost. Then even if Shadow falls, my people will be but yielding one tyrant for another.”
“You’re saying the Empire’s no better than Shadow?” Cahn asked, his tone threatening.
Raven held up his hands. “Nay, I said it not,” he said. “’Tis certain that your Emperor George cannot help but be preferable to the horrors of Shadow. But is there no other way? Are my people never to retur
n to their own ways, their own rulers?”
“Watch how you talk about the Emperor,” Godwin growled.
“His Imperial Majesty George the Eighth generally doesn’t interfere much in the lives of his subjects,” Cahn said, with enforced calm. “You people will probably have all your own little lords back, if that’s what you want—it’s just they’ll be subject to the Empire.”
Raven turned up his palms. “And you do not see why we are dissatisfied with that?”
“I see it,” Cahn said, his voice hard. “I just don’t see why it’s any of my business.”
“Ah, Captain,” Raven said, suddenly changing manner from supplicant to salesman, “that brings us back whence we began. I can take you home to your own world; in exchange, I ask that you aid us against Shadow.”
“It’s a circle, all right,” Cahn agreed, “because I don’t see what we can do.”
“Isn’t there any way you can defeat Shadow, other than a full-scale war?” Pel asked.
Cahn turned to him. “For example?” he asked.
“Well, Shadow’s a magician, right? I mean, underneath? Couldn’t someone kill him somehow? Wouldn’t that do it?”
“Shadow might have been human once,” Raven said. “I doubt it still is.”
“But could it be killed?”
Raven turned to Valadrakul, who turned up open palms. “Who knows?” he said.
“Well, maybe if someone tried, that would solve the whole problem,” Pel suggested. “You know, like if someone had assassinated Hitler in 1938 maybe we wouldn’t have had to fight World War II.”
Fourteen pairs of eyes stared at him in utter incomprehension. Ted, in his recliner, giggled again; Amy was looking about the room, from face to face, while Susan was watching Raven. Nancy was in the kitchen, and Pel realized he didn’t know where Rachel was; she had disappeared.
Probably got bored, he thought to himself. This must all be way over her head.
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