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Bad Karma (Wine of the Gods Book 22)

Page 2

by Pam Uphoff


  Chapter Three

  Trump studied the man carefully.

  Black funk gone.

  Good.

  Silence and uncertainty, still evident.

  Humor? No. The man needed some care and attention. He was hovering in the doorway, uncertain of his welcome. As well he ought to be!

  She shook her head and walked up to him. "Idiot." She put her arms around him and leaned on him. He was shivering, but he wrapped his long arms around her and took a long shuddering breath.

  "Sorry. That was . . . stupid of me."

  "Umm, what you were doing, no doubt. Now will you please tell me why?" She pushed back a bit and grabbed his shirt and tried to shake him. "You know I'll always be on your side of any problem."

  He shook his head. "That was exactly the problem. I realized that you won't be here forever. Fifty, sixty years, maybe, and I'll be alone again."

  "Oh." She leaned in on him again. "It's way too early to be grieving, isn't it? Some poodle owner could murder you tomorrow and I'd be the one left all alone."

  He sighed. "Trump . . . before I met you, I was like this all the time. The hounds were like this all the time. I was less welcome around people than a plague carrier. I don't want to find out what I'd be like really grieving. Xen is going to talk to Lady Gisele. And we'll work on it, test things." He pulled back and bracketed her face with his long elegant hands. "Please, if we find something that we think will work, please, will you live forever with me?"

  "Hmm, does that come with young and beautiful forever?"

  "The way you've been altering your appearance? I suspect you will ensure that."

  "Hmph. I hadn't realized you knew. Is that what set this off?"

  He nodded and pulled her close. "Yes. I suddenly realized that you weren't simply not aging. That you were working at your appearance, a bit every day.

  "Ah, here I was all ready to beat Rustle to the Dark Crescent, and now you're trying to keep it from ever happening."

  "Damn right." He'd softened up under her hands, felt like a man, not an ambulating statue, warm. Not trembling any more.

  "Good. It was the most depressing thing I'd ever had to face, and that includes grandmotherhood. Now come and eat something. Feed the dogs. All of them have been misbehaving." She looked around frowning. "Where are they?" Only the four old ones were at heel.

  Hell hesitated, looking around. "I think Xen did something to them." He moved back outside, his hand slipping down her arm to take her hand

  What looked for all the world like a bronze sculpture of three snarling vicious beasts caught in mid-leap stood at the base of the steps

  "Oh dear." She spotted another group of bronze hounds under the trees. "Are they dead?"

  "No. Just . . . stored. So to speak. I can get them out, but, well, until I'm sure I've got myself back under control, maybe I shouldn't."

  "Hmm, yes. Good idea." She looked at the statue and sighed. "Come and eat, love. Let the children know you aren't dangerous to them."

  He winced at that.

  "That is, the ones that are still here." She poked him. "You are going to be busy mending fences, Buster."

  Chapter Four

  "Hey, look. It's the miracle worker!"

  Xen paused halfway through his office door. "Hi Fuchsia. What miracle? When?"

  "Yesterday. An hour after General Rufi sent you away, the rioting in the dock district stopped. We haven't had a single murder reported since then, and damn few accidents, even."

  Easterly popped his head out of his office. "Yeah, come and tell us all about it."

  "Ah, well." Xen headed that way, and everyone followed. "Gods, after a few centuries of watching everyone they love get old and die, wives, children, grandchildren and so on, get a bit emotionally calloused. A god like Just Deserts, who isn't popular in the first place, finds getting attached to substitutes really difficult.

  "What do you mean substitutes?" Deena asked.

  "Taverns, wineries, gardens, societies, cultures, towns and cities." Xen shrugged. "The old gods were originally ten men and three women. Mercy, Logic and Lady Gisele. Now, some of the other genetically engineered people also had longevity genes, but they didn't know who. Keep in mind that Gisele was thirty-nine years old at the time of the Exile. Everyone else was younger. Dad was twenty-three, I think. Magic was new. Unexplored, unknown. Not invented yet.

  "Now, Lady Gisele can touch someone and say if they do or don't have the longevity genes. Then, nope. The possibility of actually seeing genes magically had never occurred to them.

  "So they went through four centuries of watching people they cared about grow old and die, and then the Comet killed nearly everyone."

  "Now, our three got back in touch pretty quick. But the others haven't. Romeau just reanimated forty something years ago. Hell and the others, twenty-one years ago. So they have about four hundred years of the early magical experimentation in their bags of tricks. Our three have fourteen centuries. Now, hanging around Gisele, Romeau is probably catching up fast. Hell, on the other hand, has been hanging out with Trump, who however awesome a force of nature, is not an intellectual.

  "She's apparently the first person he's ever met that loves him just the way he is, and that's had a major effect on his, umm, surrounding field of instant karma. Apparently what Karista has seen over the last few weeks is the way he used to be all the time. A ten mile diameter of really intense over-reactions and serious accidents."

  "Eight days." Easterly said. "A rather shocking eight days. What happened?"

  "He realized that Trump was aging normally. This is the first time Just Deserts has had to face losing someone he loves. I went and talked to him about essential transformations and to Gisele about longevity genes. Now I'm going to go talk to Rufi, and maybe the King and Crown Prince, then start experimenting with some ideas."

  "The God of Spies and the Fountain of Youth." Fuchsia curled a sarcastic lip. "Deena, you should write the story."

  Deena gave her a lifted eyebrow, and turned to Xen. "Close your mouth. What did you just think of?"

  "Richie, for heaven's sake. The God of Eternal Youth. If all else fails, we'll kidnap him and make him stay around Trump for about a month straight."

  Yellow giggled. "Um, Xen, I think a woman has to fuck him to get the whole effect."

  "Hmm. Well, maybe if he stayed close for long enough. Okay, boss I'm going to be out of pocket for a bit."

  Easterly nodded. "Right. Have fun experimenting."

  ***

  Xen grinned at the frozen dogs.

  Inky giggled. "After the last week, we've about decided to leave them like this."

  "I wasn't actually counting. How many of the poor puppies did I freeze?" Pig had followed him and sniffed cautiously, before lifting his leg and pissing on one.

  "All but the first four. Dad is really sorry he messed up like that. Wow, I'd never thought about how bad karma could be. Nobody in the City is talking to us just now. All Mom's winos at the Temple ran away when they saw her."

  "Well hopefully we can keep it from happening again. Where is he?"

  "Out walking. He's still a bit worried, so he's staying on the far side of the island from the City. Just in case."

  "I see. That's why he was down there before."

  "But it wasn't doing a whole heck of a lot of good." Inky smirked. "What a mess."

  What a troublemaker.

  "I'll go find him. You might mention to your mother that I'm here."

  Inky shrugged. "Most likely you'll find her down there too. I don't know how she can stay in love with him, when she's so mad."

  Xen waved and walked off without reply. The Goddess of Discord was an ancient myth from Earth. Inky appeared to be her understudy. Little Miss Trouble or something.

  Trump was sitting on the rock he'd used yesterday, and Hell was still pacing. The dogs looked less distressed, and Red trotted up to look hopefully at him. The old dog had a bit of grey around his muzzle.

  "Hmm, you know,
I need to test some ideas. Once I've tried them on some regular animals, Red here looks like he could use a dose." He held out his hand, got a genetic sample. Beebee slipped up behind him and he got another. Pig wagged his tail hopefully and received a serious growl. He backed off quickly and slunk away.

  Hell walked up and nodded. "I used to keep them on ice. Bring them out one at a time when I was feeling personally nasty. The last twenty-three years, all four have been out constantly." He rubbed the big dog's head. "I hadn't even noticed. I didn't think. So?"

  "So Gisele knew all about the eight gene complexes involved. Umm, may I look?" He held his hand out to Trump. She grasped it briefly. "Yeah, you've got one copy of three and two copies of three. So you need the other two, and then the extra copies, and you'll be set. But first I test them." He frowned down at Red. "Now that I think about it, I've got some old dogs of my own." He pulled out the eight spells that he thought would work, with the human pattern search parameters. He copied them, rolled them neatly and placed them in a mental box with eight compartments. Offered them to Hell, who shook his head and pointed at Trump.

  "Ha! Going to try and tempt me, eh?" She hopped down and thumped Hell in the ribs.

  "Don't use them, please, until I've tested them. I may need to make changes."

  Trump picked up the insubstantial box and shoved it into her forehead. "But you're afraid, once anyone learns about it, that you'll be mobbed and torn to pieces? So I get these now."

  Hell winced. "Oh. The . . . ramifications are huge, aren't they?"

  "Yeah. Do I keep this a deep dark secret, only for the lucky few, or do I hand it out to everyone?" Xen shrugged. "Once I've got it worked out, I think I'll make up a batch of wine like the last, and just let it go."

  "So anyone who wants to live forever can find the nearest snake oil salesman and get skinned?"

  "Yep. Hmm, maybe I'll pass it on to some traveling friends of mine. As quickly as possible. Old Gods! The collective subconscious. Very, very fast. Bye."

  "You really need to settle down to a single archetype, Xen." Hell sounded cheerful as he walked away.

  Xen sent a polite note to the King requesting a few moments to explain some problems involved with curing Hell's problem.

  King Leano was amused. "When I was growing up, the old gods got a brief mention. 'They're off in this valley,' Father said. 'We don't bother them and they don't bother us.' Then he went on and explained the important parts of my job. I never expected to have much to do with gods. I'm not sure their existence actually registered with me until they showed up with Fossi. And it's been getting more frequent. All you youngsters, I suppose. Spreading out."

  He leaned back, his eyes focused on the distance for a long moment, then shook his head. "This isn't the sort of secret that can be kept, nor is it something I want to try and control. I think your idea about the wine is the best. When you are reasonably certain, let it go."

  "Sire, thank you." Xen bowed.

  The King laughed and waved him out. "Go tell Rufi, he's very proud of you, you know? My old stick of a brother, with a huge family, lately discovered. You should bring more of them down to town. That daughter of yours is, what, fifteen now? Bring her to the Royal Ball, next winter. And before that. I want to meet her."

  "Yes, sire."

  Chapter Five

  Lion and Blackie were out with the invisible sheep. Not that they were actually invisible at the moment. Their wool had a transparent core and a reflective outer covering, and it transmitted light very well, when cut across both ends. He hadn't been able to get the reflective layer to only be reflective to the inside, so they did tend to spottily reflect the world around them. During the day it worked fairly well as camouflage. At night, they reflected moonlight and torches and showed up like beacons. At the moment they were pretty dirty and just looked like sheep.

  He flopped down in the long grass. "I need to figure out how to double layer their hair, so I can color the outside."

  Lion eased down beside him. Very grey muzzled and stiff. Xen studied him. A pup of Red's, Xen could see where he had the human incursions and the straight dog genes. Red had had a double set of three of the longevity genes. Beebee had had a double set of three others. So the old Earth experimenters hadn't been creating immortal dogs, just experimenting with the genes.

  Xen studied the old dog carefully, found the same gene complexes, and very gently started changing them, one at a time. With pauses in between to check the dog for signs that he had done something Really Bad to his cellular metabolism. When he was done, the old dog didn't seem any different. Lion heaved himself to his feet and walked stiffly out to circle the sheep. Walked partway back, staggering a bit.

  Xen sat up in alarm and trotted out to meet him. The old dog laid down, his head drooped.

  "Lion?" Xen sank his awareness into the dog. Wish I could see like a witch . . . He's very low on energy.

  He looked into the bubble he called his backpack. A change of clothes, food, water and the Wine of the Gods.

  He pulled out the food, coaxed Lion to eat . . . with minimal success.

  He scooped the dog up and traveled to Lady Gisele's garden. Tried to keep his voice steady. "My first patient seems to be dying. He's low on energy."

  "Humph. Let's see." The old crone reached out to stroke the dog. "Indeed." She reached over to her shelves and plucked off a bottle.

  "That's maple syrup."

  "Yes, dear, and good source of sugar, to get his glycogen levels up. Let's see if he can swallow it . . . Hmm, well, a bit of tubing . . . "

  She plucked plastic tubing from nowhere, and wormed it down Lion's throat. "There's a funnel behind you, third shelf, the small one . . . thank you."

  He got the funnel into the tube and poured a teaspoon of maple syrup into it.

  "Now, let's see what's happening on the cellular level . . . Oh dear."

  Xen was following her vision as far as he could. Chromosomes writhing about, under attack by his ribozymes, ripping into the right genes and then building up the new ones, grabbing the chemicals needed . . . whether the rest of the cell could spare them or not. Whether the cell needed that gene—old or new version, right then.

  Cells were dying, fast. Lots of them.

  Everything they tried made it worse.

  They couldn't save him.

  Xen spent the rest of the day out on the hills with the sheep and the horses. Cradling his old dog.

  Blackie and Silky crawled up to him, crying.

  Quicksilver showed up in the mid-afternoon. Just sat down silently.

  "I was overconfident. I thought I was so clever, so infallible."

  "What were you trying to do?"

  He hauled out his spells and let her look them over. "The longevity genes."

  "An essential transformation? Xen . . . that is brilliant work."

  Xen shook his head. "It just tore into the genes and started changing them. It was too fast, too much all at once . . . or maybe those genes are multi-purposed to something in basal cell metabolism, that can't be interrupted."

  She sighed. "I'm better at physics. This stuff . . . I can do it, using other people's spells. I don't grasp the significance of possible genetic changes, of how to invent them."

  "I wasn't really inventing new genes. I was changing the genes at eight specific sites to slightly different genes. Known genes, ones that will work fine."

  "In humans. Maybe not in dogs?"

  "The Hell Hounds have some of them. Lion had one copy each of three of them. I just tried to give him the other five, and double pairs. He . . . ran out of glycogen, and the changes were messing up the cell chemistry. Even getting sugar into him didn't help, and when I tried to stop the process . . . well, the chromosomes started falling apart." He pet the cold stiff form in his lap. "I killed him."

  Q opened her mouth . . . shut it.

  All those transformations we so breezily threw around on the One World . . . Why was this one so deadly?

  He levitated out
a deep plug of dirt, set his old dog in the hole and let the plug settle.

  "Good dog, Lion." He could barely force out a whisper. Turned and walked off into the hills.

  Chapter Six

  A night of black contemplation brought only the thought that he needed to consult an expert.

  Xen got a lecture from Nil about being an idiot who was trying to get himself killed.

  "You are doing too much all at once. On an elderly subject. Next time try one gene at a time. And this might actually be a case where a potion was a good idea. Attach some nutrients, keep it dilute, so you affect perhaps ten percent of the body's cells per dose. Or perhaps something with the timing of the actual action. Spread out over weeks, the transformations ought to be safe." Nil eyed the glimmering representatives of the spells hanging in mid air. "And I have a few suggestions about your comparison spells and those chromosome identification spells." He held up a glittering sequence of his own.

  "Not that yours won't work. But this is faster, considering where on the chromosome those genes are. I doubt you'll be throwing these in a wizard battle, but this sort of search works with anything." The retired evil wizard looked thoughtful. "That spell that zapped your power genes, among others. Do you have it?"

  "I made it. I think Ricardo caught it when I showed it to Harry. This is what I, umm, used on Mercy." Xen pulled out that spell.

  "Nasty. I like it. But you could make it faster. Don't wince. It's just two genes being removed and the hole glued together. It would dump in a few loose amino acids, but not enough to cause a problem. Add something for the wizard X and you'd have an all-purpose spell for any magic user."

  "I hope I never need one." Xen bit his lip. "Maybe I'd better make one that'll take out the One World and Arbolian genes."

 

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