Galactic Mage 4: Alien Arrivals

by John Daulton

  Both women worked quietly for a time. Annison kept trying to reach out to the Z-class seer somewhere on Prosperion, the habit of hope still working even in this hopeless state.

  “Look,” said the woman. “They’re coming together. Give me another half. We might actually get a match.”

  The sound of fingers on glass followed, and Annison nearly gave up, but then both women simultaneously cried out, “There!”

  “We’ve got it, oh Blessed Mother, we’ve got the match,” said the woman across the room.

  “And look,” said the first from her place near Annison’s head. “Look there. What is that? See?”

  “It’s coming from outside. That’s not us.”

  “Oh my God,” said the first. “He must have got them. It’s working. It’s finally working.” Her fingers beat a rapid-fire thrum on the console as she worked. “Call them, call them,” she said as she worked. “Tell them it’s finally happening.”

  Annison found himself distracted by their noise, but fought to hold on. What had he done? Had he connected with the marchioness’ seer somehow? He couldn’t feel a thing. But what if he had? He pleaded for help in the same instant he allowed himself to ride the wave of his captors’ enthusiasm. He sent cries, weeping cries from the core of his most desperate soul. “Please save me,” he sent with thoughts that throbbed with tortured agony. “Please.” It felt like shouting into a pillow. Pointless.

  His real sobbing broke his ability to concentrate, but, apparently, not the elation of the women in the room. They were both still jubilant when Jefe and El Segador arrived.

  Chapter 35

  “Dude, you owe me,” Roberto said as he stared at Altin’s image in the monitor before him. “Look at all the stuff I’ve done for you guys on Red Fire already.” He lay on his stomach as he spoke, a buxom woman in the suggestive uniform of the Glistening Lady’s crew providing him with a rather rough massage that made his voice surge in volume as she dug into back muscles that lay atop his ribs and lungs.

  “It’s not for lack of willingness,” Altin replied. “I’ll gladly accompany you to Murdoc Bay or anywhere else you should like to go, but Orli made me promise specifically that I wouldn’t go back there unless it was on the orders of the Queen. She insists it’s too dangerous for someone of ‘my profile.’ I promised.”

  “You make too many big, binding promises, dude. But I got you covered. Technically, I’m on the Queen’s business selling this stuff. And now it’s finally been approved by the NTA Department of Health and Agriculture, which means I’ve only got a few months to build a strong brand in the market before some dickhead company clones it and starts opening up their own chain stores. You know someone is going to try to hose me, man; that’s what these big global companies do. You really think the NTA needed all this time to put it through quarantine?”

  “I don’t think the NTA will go directly against Her Majesty’s first trade venture on planet Earth. That’s hardly in keeping with good diplomacy.”

  “The NTA won’t. At least not directly. But they will sell it to someone else and have them do it for them. I’ve actually got my first mate looking for signs of it being shopped around down here already. Deeqa knows people—hell, she’s related to people—who would do it in a heartbeat. Trust me; if there’s anything these people are good at, it’s making money. They ain’t the Northern Trade Alliance for nothing. They already brought down one world order for cash; don’t think they can’t get you guys too.”

  “Well, I think you sell Her Majesty short, but I do understand your concern, and your reason for haste in getting your next load. It’s been a long time in coming for you, and you deserve your rewards. Do you really think your people can possibly make an imitation variety of Goblin Tea that will taste as good and have all the same effects? There are creatures of Prosperion involved with growing it, you know. Pollination and that sort of thing.”

  “Oh, they’ll make something close enough. I get all that ‘right air, right soil, right bugs’ thing, but there’s nobody down here that’s had it before. If someone beats me to establishing the brand, I’ll be the knockoff trying to capture some gourmet niche or something. They’ll have set the palate, and worse, they can afford to run nonstop net ads convincing everyone that drinking anything else makes you a total loser. People believe that crap. You can’t out-info-war the super rich. They’ll get all the everyday sales if I don’t execute this perfectly. You of all people should understand that I don’t want to lose.”

  Altin nodded. “I do understand.”

  They exchanged grim nods. “Good. And that is why I need you with me in Murdoc Bay. Something is up down there, and the last two times we went, we’ve had people trying to sneak onto the ship, like, right there at the plantation. One of them even tried to do one of those icicle things you guys do, tried to hit one of my girls when she caught him. Deeqa had to shoot his ass.”

  Altin’s lips drew taut and curled in on themselves as he considered that. “Have you told Her Majesty?”

  “I have no way to tell her. I sent a message through the TGS depot, just like everyone else trying to communicate with your government does. It’s all bureaucratted up now. The TGS might as well be the NTA now, at least when it comes to procedures, forms, and delays.”

  “Well, I can get word to her for you. She can send a contingent of mages to accompany you.”

  “She won’t. That was my first request four months ago when the two dipshits tried to sneak on board the first time. They thought they could turn invisible and just walk right in, but we can see that crap on sensors. You guys might be able to scramble our brains or whatever with your illusions, but they don’t do crap to surveillance feeds.”

  “Hmm,” Altin hummed. “Then you do have a problem, and I can certainly see why having me along would help.”

  “I’m telling you, man, I don’t want to cause an interplanetary incident or anything, but if those assholes keep trying to screw with my people or my ship, I’ll burn them down in piles until I get some respect. I know how it goes with blanks down there, especially in Murdoc Bay. And I have Her Majesty’s permission to do it, too, although she made me promise to use some restraint, which is why I’m calling you. I guess that bony old hag the marchioness is already pissed off about me being there as it is, so I’m not supposed to become a ‘diplomatic problem.’”

  “Yes, you’re walking more than one fine line in that particular town, to be sure.”

  “Yeah, so I need you to keep it peaceful. I don’t want Her Majesty to think I can’t handle it, and I don’t have time to wait to hear back from her anyway. The way I see it, if they know you’re there, they won’t even try anything. Who’s going to screw with you?”

  “Well, you might be surprised, but again, I see your point. Let me talk to Orli about getting out of that promise.”

  “I’ll talk to her,” Roberto offered as his masseuse was working her way down his spine. He seemed to think about what he’d volunteered to do for a second, then said to the woman working on him, “Go back to my neck and shoulders. Orli’s attitude is already making me tense, and she’s not even on screen yet.”

  Altin hummed a second time, though this one sounded a different note as he watched the captain of the Glistening Lady being rubbed down by a member of his crew. “I should think it might be better if I spoke to her just now,” he said.

  The look on his face seemed to convey his meaning, and Roberto laughed. “That’s true. I think living with you people is turning her into more of a prude than she already was.” He winked before going on, though. “Fine, so tell her. But don’t mess around. If you guys want me to go back to Earth and pick up the science team for the Yellow Fire meld next week, then I have to pick up my next Goblin Tea shipment tomorrow. If I don’t, then I won’t have time to get it through customs and security. In a way, it’s your schedule I’m trying to work with here more than mine, so I could really use your help in Murdoc Bay. It is technically the Queen’s business, and, I mea
n, not to be a dick or anything, but you kind of owe me. I need you, and I don’t think we can keep throwing bodies out the hatch every time we leave, you know? At some point, someone is going to get pissed.”

  “Well, murder is fairly common down there, but I take your meaning perfectly. Let me talk to Orli, and we’ll get right back to you.”

  “Hey, it wasn’t murder. That dude tried to shoot a magic ice arrow through one of my girls. He’s lucky he was dead, because it might have gone worse if I got my hands on him.”

  Altin nodded. “Yes, I understand. That’s not what I meant. I’m confident Miss Daar acted in the right.”

  Roberto nodded. “Damn right, she did,” he said. “And my crew depend on me to keep them safe, not just from thugs, but from the authorities. Which I will, but I’m not giving up my Goblin Tea gig just because it’s getting a little rough. I’ll wait for your call.” He reached forward to cut the feed.

  Altin shook his head as he stared into the monitor mounted on the tower wall. He still counted it a strange object to be found there, an alien object in his second-floor study, the place where he’d once more begun to assemble his own personal collection of magic books. Although the technology itself was strange, here, amongst those wooden shelves, mounted between a pair of ancient tapestries that Kettle had brought up and hung there to decorate—hide—the brushed steel walls, it seemed especially so. But times changed, and this was an exciting time. His tower, which even he had begun thinking of as “the boot” after having seen it settled upon both Red Fire and Yellow Fire so often in recent weeks, was the nexus of two worlds. He was still getting used to the crosspollination of the two planets even after so much time. It thrilled him, but it also vexed him some. He could see in the aesthetic asymmetry a cultural metaphor, one suggesting that there were some things that would never fit together well, never mix properly. Some things that would want hiding. Roberto’s problems were evidence of that as well.

  He headed downstairs to find Orli and discuss those problems, figuring she’d be in her garden tending to a very late crop of squash and a pumpkin patch she’d had going since summer began. Sure enough, she was there, crawling about in the dirt with a spade, old Nipper nearby, the two of them working somewhat head to head as they tried to counter an invasion of weeds.

  “And a fine thing ta see ya settlin’ in, young miss,” Nipper was saying as Altin approached. “There weren’t enough in one world for some, but most o’ us folk find life right fine near enough ta home. As if the mountains ain’t high enough ta explore or the forest been all seen as yet.” He saw Altin approaching and raised his voice in a way clearly meant for Altin to hear. “Sooner ya both plant roots, the better. With all the dyin’ ’round this place these last few years, ’tis about time fer the patter a’ little feet again. I actually thought I might like the silence what come from little Pernie bein’ gone, off with them elves, but I dunna care fer it no more.” He looked up from his work, his tired old eyes rheumy and ringed with lines, lines of age, mainly, but he was tired too. Everyone at Calico Castle was. For those who lived and worked here full time, who had done so for decades and decades, there was little excitement in the discovery of new planets and new people. Only change. Only loss of everything they’d known for all those years, just over two centuries for Nipper, if Altin made his guess, which was pretty astonishing for a blank.

  “Well, if that damn woman in Crown ever stops lording over my wedding,” Orli replied, unaware that Altin had come up from behind, his movements made silent by his habitually bare feet, “I might be able to get working on that. Hell, I could have had one by now if the stupid elves hadn’t shown up when they did.”

  “Well, missy,” Nipper said, “way Kettle tells it, if’n they hadn’t come when they did, well, you’d be laid out in the ground feedin’ the weeds from underneath. Weren’t no baby makin’ from there.”

  Orli nodded, yanking out a clump of wiry vegetation as she did. “Yes, that’s true. But you know what I mean.”

  “She never meant ta do it, ya know.”

  Orli looked up. “Who? The Queen? Yes she did. She is a stubborn old … harpy, just like you always say.”

  “No, not her. I mean wee Pernie. She’s a strange one, weren’t no lie, an’ I’ll grant ya that, but she dinna mean that shot. I just know it.”

  Orli made a face at that, but went back to work. “I don’t know. I keep telling myself that too. Kettle insists it’s true. But there was sure something scary in her eyes. Like she really meant it. Like she hated me.”

  “A wee child like her don’t know nothin’ ’bout hate,” he said, glancing up at Altin as he did. Altin could tell the old man didn’t approve of him standing there unannounced so long.

  “Ahem,” Altin said in response. As usual, the old man was right enough on the moral compass side.

  Orli turned back, beaming a beautiful smile up at him over her shoulder. “Come to help, Sir Bookworm? Working in the dirt would be good for you, help prepare you for the meld on Red Fire next month. Get you in tune with nature and growing things.”

  “Well, as much as I’d love to join you two, I’ve actually just gotten off the com with Roberto.”

  “Roberto?” She straightened, upright on her knees and rubbing her back absently. “From where?”

  “From orbit. He’s here to pick up another shipment of Goblin Tea. He wants me to go with him. I guess some of the magicians down there are giving him some trouble.”

  “Well, he can just get his business partner in Crown City to kick down a wizard to help him out. He can’t have mine.”

  Altin smiled, but pressed the point anyway. “She won’t send anyone. She’s got problems with the marchioness as it is. Sending a bunch of Crown City magicians is not a good idea—assuming she’s got any to spare given all the reconstruction in the city and the TGS depots going up. She’s already flatly refused his request.”

  “Tell him to ask again. Have him try being polite this time.”

  “He already has. Several times. He can’t get through to her, and he’s running out of time.”

  “So he called you.”

  “Yes. He did.”

  She made a huffy face and blew out an audible breath through her nose. She looked to Nipper to confirm the exasperation that she felt, and she found by his sardonic countenance and sad, resigning nod that he clearly understood.

  “God damn it, Altin,” she said. “God damn both of you. You and Roberto. What is wrong with you two? Can’t you just … live? Does everything have to be a life-and-death adventure all the time?”

  He put his hands up defensively. “Hey, it’s hardly life and death.” He winced the moment that came out of his mouth. “Well, all right, it has been actually, but that is why he needs my help. To ensure peace.”

  “And how are you going to do that?”

  “My presence will dissuade the locals from attempting to prey on what they obviously think of as a ship full of blanks. The fact that I was there the first time but not subsequently seems to have given them nerve.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, glancing once more to Nipper, who shook his head, indicating that he thought Altin’s story was as full of holes as was the ancient burlap sack in which the old man had been stuffing the weeds he pulled. “That’s all? Just you standing there, and suddenly a whole town full of kidnappers, cutthroats, and slave traders is going to behave itself?”

  Altin frowned, a little agitated at her tone, and he too put his hands on his hips. “He’s your friend too, Orli. If you prefer I tell him he’s on his own down there, so be it. I gave you my promise not to go, and I will keep it if that’s what you wish. But I hope you will consider releasing me from it, because I do believe that I will make a difference by simply being there. There is little enough of use that has come with this infernal rank and title the Queen thrust on me, but I should like to think bringing it to bear for a friend who has risked his life for me on numerous occasions would be one of them.”

  Orli
looked from Altin back to Nipper, but this time Nipper suddenly found a weed that needed to be pulled. She glared at the age spots on his bald head, one eye narrow and twitching a little at his sudden abandonment of her cause, but she sighed and shook her head. He was right. They both were.

  “Fine,” she said. “But I’m not going this time. I’m not going to watch it if it all goes wrong.”

  “It won’t.”

  “It better not.”

  “It won’t.”

  “Altin,” she said, looking up at him with the frustration already fading from her eyes. “Someday I hope you really will settle down with me. It’s all getting, you know, kind of exhausting.”

  “I will,” he said, but he cut himself off before he could say the words “I promise” again. Promises had begun to take new meaning in his life. They were things that bound, given in earnestness and with best intent, but often undermined by unforeseeable reality. He truly did want to settle down, at least in a way that made what he chose to do less risky than running down to Murdoc Bay to play magical bodyguard for Roberto while he did business amongst a den of thieves. But it seemed that’s not what fate decreed. So he kept the promise to himself, and kissed her softly on the mouth instead. “I love you,” he said; then he ran back upstairs.

  Chapter 36

  Djoveeve circled warily around the wall, her knives out, one gripped for thrusting and the other held point down, its blade nearly long enough to pass her elbow. Her spear lay on the ground, under Pernie’s boot, and Pernie glared at her, crouched like an animal about to spring. She might have were Seawind not approaching her from the left.

  Seawind thrust at her with his own spear, and she batted it aside with the haft of hers. She kicked gravel up at him as she did, using the distraction to snatch up the weapon she’d just taken from Djoveeve and throw it at the elf. She cast a teleport spell right after, came up behind Djoveeve, and mashed her in the back of the head with the butt of her weapon. The woman, still fast enough to defeat most anyone, wasn’t fast enough for Pernie anymore, and the blow struck with a hollow thud that sent the ancient assassin to her knees.