Bad Karma (Wine of the Gods Book 22)

by Pam Uphoff

  Nil tsked. "All of them. Have your back covered too. Especially after everyone finds out you're a walking fountain of youth."

  The old wizard studied the molecule manufacturer in delight. And looked very thoughtful about the potentials of a 'von Neumann' machine. "A bit scary, that. This has enough rare atoms it'd bog down fairly quickly by causing a local scarcity. Starve itself."

  "Dad's wine is like this. It can't even sustain itself more than a few days when spilled into a hotspring. It uses up all the sulfur, then crashes as it runs out of energy."

  "I'm afraid to ask how you know that." Nil frowned at him.

  "Oh, everyone in Rip Crossing knows that an orgy really takes off if the wine gets into the water. Fun, but, good heavens, the number of children born nine or ten months later. Twins and triplets everywhere."

  Nil snorted. "'Spect so. When you get this new wine of yours done, send me some. If everyone in the World is going to live forever, might as well make it two Worlds and a bunch of wizards."

  Chapter Seven

  Xen took the corridors back to the Crossroads, and looked up the hill. Blackie and Silky were with the sheep. He hunched his shoulders and took the corridor to the temple.

  Trump's derelicts and winos had returned. With friends. They encircled him warily.

  "You've got it. You've got the secret of Eternal Youth." The little old lady was stooped and wrinkled.

  A shaky thin man stood next to her. "Give it to us. We want it, we want to live."

  " . . . strong . . . "

  " . . . healthy . . . "

  "I can't." Xen protested. They pressed toward him and his skin crawled. But they looked so frail any level of force might be too much. He couldn't kill a dozen old people. And he definitely could not give them what they wanted. "I can't. It would kill you, I need to do more work, more testing." He spoke as much to his traitorous self as the old people.

  " . . . give it to us . . . "

  " . . . forever . . . "

  He fished the bottle of the Wine of the Gods out of his dimensional backpack. "Take a tiny sip, get healthier while I work on the other spells. Don't, umm, this stuff . . . "

  "Yeah," one of the old men grinned toothlessly. "Heard about that. He, he, he."

  The old woman whapped him with her cane. "Don't getch'er hopes up, old man. I ain't that kinda girl."

  Another oldster piped up behind them. "And it isn't any good, anyway. I paid good money for some Havwee temple water, and I felt just fine till the nex' morning. Ooowee! Worst hangover I ever had."

  Xen crabbed sideways until he reached the Island Corridor and backed through it.

  Hell was standing just the other side of it. "Word gets around fast, doesn't it?"

  "Some days I curse magic. Wouldn't life be so much simpler without it?" Xen shrugged. "At the moment all I can do is hope I don't kill people in wholesale lots."

  "Yes. I really hope so." Hell hunched his shoulders, but a glint of humor shone in his eyes. "Trump is making sure I realize that she is not a possession, a prize, or a wife, nor will she accept the role of master. I think I'm going to be sleeping on the couch for some time. Come and do terrible things to my poor doggies."

  "Not yet. My first test of those spells was a dismal failure. If Trump should decide to try them, she needs to throw each spell singly, with weeks in between, and eat well."

  Hell eyed him.

  "I killed my old dog on the first try. I will improve it. And try it out on mice or rats or something, first."

  "Yesss." Hell glanced over his shoulder at the small delegation of witches headed their way. "Trump, Inky and Scarlet are the only witches that I didn't chase away. The rest found sudden reasons to go to Ash for training, or visit Azure in Farofo. Taking their children with them."

  "Since Inky and Scarlet have ten children between them, I can see where they might have found leaving a bit difficult." Xen hastily shut his mouth on any more tactless words. The other twelve Karista Bay children were parceled out among the other six young witches and the two Waning Crescents, a much more manageable situation.

  "Manageable?" Hell snorted. "They put all the little children on ice and sent them away with their sisters. I am so . . . "

  Xen bit his lip and stepped back through the Corridor. Hell followed, four dogs at his heels. They watched the old derelicts for a moment.

  "They seem fine. But not much spryer than an hour ago. Stick to mice and rats for now." Hell sighed. "I am in so much trouble. With Trump, and then with the city folk and the king."

  "Just keep a low profile and look baffled when it gets blamed on you. You've lived here for over twenty years. How many other riots have you caused? None? Then why is this one being blamed on you?"

  "Because it's my fault."

  Xen shook his head. "I think the First Rule of Holes applies. When in one, stop digging. As for your personal troubles, perhaps we should stroll down to the flower shop and you can buy a bouquet for Trump. And chocolate never hurt, either."

  "No wonder men lock up their wives and daughters when you walk by."

  "The Great Secret of Chocolate and Flowers has been known for millennia. I am shocked, over and over, when I meet men who have never heard of it, or worse, doubt it." Xen eyed the dogs as they fanned out, but apart from some half hearted digging and some poop on a door stoop they seemed quite restrained. Beebee even dashed into the street to grab a little girl by the dress and haul her back to the sidewalk. Of course her mother screamed about the vicious dog attacking her child. Hell sighed and bought flowers. Lots of flowers, and then sent Xen into a confectioner's for chocolate.

  The oldsters were still looking, well, no more decrepit than they had before, and they glared sullenly at Xen as he followed Hell and the four hounds through the Corridor.

  Flowers and chocolate were well received, and Xen slipped out hearing "Honestly, Dad!" behind him.

  He checked the derelicts again, and got some dirty looks.

  "I feel a mite better, my bones don't ache, but this ain't youth." The old woman glared. "I want that elixir of eternal youth."

  "Umm, perhaps in a few weeks, after the Wine of the Gods has you nice and healthy, while I catch some rats to test the . . . elixir on." Oh crap. It's not even safe, may never be, but it's got a gods damned name already!

  Chapter Eight

  Catching rabbits and voles out on the hills was easier than finding rats or mice in Flare's domain. Of course, none of them were very old. He applied the spells slowly, one at a time. Just sticking them into the regular chromosomes, since they had no insertions at all. The long life genes plastered onto their normal genes didn't kill any of them.

  "I need animals with insertions to test this idea on."

  Pyrite poked him.

  "No. Absolutely not. Dammit. I need to find a really old dog." He glanced guiltily at Pyrite. "Or horse. Just . . . one with just one God Horse in his background. Nobody we know. There's plenty of half hellhounds around."

  Pyrite snorted. :: A horse would be better. You could see if it changed his personality. ::

  "Dogs actually do have a personality."

  Skeptical snort. Ears waggling.

  "Very funny. Well, there's plenty of horse dealers in Karista. I'll be right back."

  He outbid a knacker for two nags and hauled the poor things a couple of blocks before he gave up in sheer pity and teleported with them to the backyard of the house, and dragged them through the corridor to the Crossroads.

  The bay rack of bones had probably been elegant, at some far distant point of her life. Four insertions in her genes. The black pony's head was pretty enough that she might have been a young lady's mount. Decades ago. Three insertions.

  Pyrite backed away, snorting in horror.

  "I know. They're . . . really old and . . . a pretty good test of these spells."

  Xen left them tearing into the grass while he walked down to the Tavern for dinner. And picked at Flare's roasted venison.

  He gave the mares each
a dose of the joy juice, and locked them up overnight with mineral salts in their oats. And in the morning let them graze their way far enough away from the tavern that he . . . didn't feel like he was slaughtering horses in front of friends.

  The hills were empty. A few sheep off to the north, no doubt his.

  "Where's the Old Dun and his herd?"

  :: West, by the river. The men with the cattle herds kept trying to catch them, so the Dun moved them away. ::

  "Just as well. I don't need to have him running off with my experiments." Xen looked at the old mares and winced. "You might not want to watch."

  Pyrite shook his head and refused to leave.

  "Right. First I'm going to put one gene in where the bay hasn't got an insertion." Xen gulped and cast the spell. Test animals. They don't need names. I'll . . . name them later, and find good homes for them. If I don't mess up again.

  The two mares kept right on crunching through mouthfuls of grass.

  Xen proffered maple sugar lumps. Quickly accepted.

  The mare ripped off another mouthful of grass and kept munching.

  Xen watched her for hours. Dug travel rations out of his backpack, afraid to leave, and checked her cells. Hourly. And inside of three hours they were still working with no problem, the new genes in their proper place.

  He pulled out the spell to swap a gene the bay mare had on an insertion. Looked into cells to watch it working. "I think it's doing all right."

  He stopped talking as the bay mare put her head down and walked around like a dog circling three times before lying down. And lay down.

  "Well, maybe you're just tired?"

  Xen edged up to her. Sat down and stroked her face, getting another genetic sample. The cells were doing all right. Oh, a few dying, but that was normal . . . Nothing falling apart . . . except occasionally, the end of the chromosome broke off. And the cell started dying.

  "Shit!" He threw a bubble over the mare. "Oh bloody . . .stupid . . . over confident . . . arrogant . . . " He clutched his hands in his hair. Took a deep breath.

  "Is that what I did wrong? To Lion?"

  "Right. I need a spell to hold the chromosome firmly in place while the rebuilding is going on. I need . . . to build the new gene, then replace the old, first one strand, then the other. Then the old gene can be disassembled while it's floating around loose."

  "But first I need to save my test subject. Just a little enzyme to . . . no. I just need a protein to grab both sides and hold it while the new gene is assembled . . . right. That ought to grab both ends and it's the right length . . . "

  He popped the mare's bubble and tossed the spell on a small spot on her shoulder. Watched carefully as the cell manufactured the protein and it attached . . . held the chromosome together while the new gene was assembled. He pulled back a bit. Fewer cells were dying. He checked the ones that were, yes, too late with the new protein, no sign that the protein itself was causing a problem . . . he cast the spell again, over the entire horse.

  The mare grunted and stretched out flat in the spring sunshine.

  But there weren't too many cells dying.

  Xen chewed his fingernails for an hour, then she stood back up and slowly grazed her way back to the stone water trough in the tavern's brick yard.

  Done. All the cells had the new gene. He carefully checked his protein spell, but it was already fading, the cells were cutting up and using the protein for other things.

  He led the mares back to the barn, ate dinner, then slept fitfully in an empty stall. The bay mare was fine in the morning. He turned them both out and took the corridor to Karista. He needed to catch up on work, and modify his potions carefully before he tried again.

  Three days later, he was ready to try again. "Right. You are, by the way, Test Subject One. In case you were wondering." The bay mare looked dubious. "Oh, all right. Tessie. Now, this time, this gene change is going to work perfectly. Right?" He swallowed and cast the spell on a small spot. Followed the mare as she grazed her way up hill, checking the spot . . . it did seem to be working . . . An hour later, he cast the spell over all of her, and chewed his fingernails while he watched it work perfectly.

  He sat out on the hills, reading reports of bandit activity in the New Lands. And anxiously watching the mare. She was fine. He cast one of the non-insertion gene additions.

  Munch, munch, munch. Long grass sticking out of both sides of her mouth. It took less than an hour.

  Pyrite nudged him. :: She's all right. Better than yesterday. ::

  "Yes." Next gene.

  At three pairs of genes a day, the mare was fine. In the morning, she got the final insertion gene swap. It worked perfectly.

  "So . . . I need this spell web to manufacture a new gene. Find the correct chromosomes and find the insertions, and insert it, remove the old one. If there is no insertion, add the gene after the last protein coding gene at the end of the chromosome. And then a nice long delay until the next swap starts." He blew out his breath. "I can set them to kick in, at first sunset, first sunrise, second sunset and so on. Spread it all out over four days . . . "

  He fixed it all in a bottle of wine. Labeled carefully "For horses only." And another designed for dogs. He wiped sweat off his forehead. Altered the spell for humans. Fought down nausea. I could kill someone with this!

  He went back to Magic Central and worked for a couple of days. Checking the mare twice a day. It really did seem to be working.

  A brief trip out to Gold Strike Territory, chasing a rumor. No luck. Back to Karista.

  And back to the crossroads.

  The black pony was looking better, even if still obviously old.

  "So, you game for a full bore, the whole deal, all out Equine Elixir of Youth?'

  She eyed him suspiciously, after weeks of being practically ignored. Looked wistfully out the barn doors.

  He pulled out the bottle and tugged out the cork.

  "It's everything at once, but they'll only trigger every twelve hours, more or less. So it'll be fine. Right?"

  Pyrite walked over and laid his head on Xen's shoulder for a moment. :: Right. ::

  "Right." He poured oats into the mare's bucket and added the elixir.

  And sat back to watch . . . not much of anything happening, on the large scale. The genetic engineering crept along, nice and slow. She finished the oats and looked out again.

  "Right. Run free, little Miss Full Bore."

  He watched for an hour, then back to the office. But he popped in and out six times a day, even wrote reports. It worked perfectly.

  The bay mare was looked really good. Younger. The black pony . . . not yet.

  But a week later the improvement was obvious. And continuing.

  He got sent back to the New Lands, helping to set up security around the corridors.

  When he returned, both mares looked great.

  Which brought up the stomach curdling next step.

  Chapter Nine

  I can't test this on a person! Killing Lion was horrible. Kill a person, and I'll definitely never forgive myself. Not to mention that it would arguably be murder. He looked down at the bottle of "human style" elixir. Or suicide.

  He wiggled the cork out.

  Pyrite snorted in alarm.

  "All it will do is replace my genes with the identical gene. But I could watch the process, and at least see if this step is safe." He forced the cork back to the bottle. "Let's see what Flare's cooking for dinner. Like some nice rare roast beef?"

  Snort. :: She has good desserts, though. ::

  ***

  Blackie and Silky appreciated the roast beef.

  Xen gazed at the bottle of Doggy Elixir in his hand. "You know . . . you guys are so smart, I ought not think of you as not people. It never occurred to me before, that I didn't. But when it comes to testing this on one of you, versus testing it on an elderly human that I don't even know . . . somehow I still pick the canine as the one to take the risk, even though I have no way of asking you to volun
teer."

  A paw on his arm. "Woof."

  "Pig . . . are you sneaking around, following me?"

  The big dog grinned. And looked pointedly at the bottle. Three quarters Hell hound. Very, very smart.

  "Have you been watching?"

  "Woof."

  Xen poured wine into the little bowl he'd brought.

  Pig started lapping. Blackie dived in with a growl. When Xen grabbed her, Silky stole a sample.

  "Oh . . . Fuck a skunk." Xen stared in horror. "Dogs, you bloody . . . " He sat down abruptly. "You know, I really do prefer to poison my dogs one at a time."

  Pig just grinned and laid down beside him. Silky and Red's pup. Lion's half brother. Small only in comparison to Blackie and Mot's pups. At least they aren't here.

  Silky climbed into his lap, only overflowing a bit. Blackie lay down on his other side.

  He petted them, checked their cells—just a single substitution underway, no cell die off. Yet. He settled back to try to enjoy the sun on his back. To watch the sheep, Pyrite and the two mares . . . who seemed to be quite taken with him. Of course. All the wine I've been doping them with, so they weren't so decrepit. And Pyrite can get wine whenever he wants.

  Pyrite looked around at him. :: Later. When they are healthy. Now . . . it is nice to have horse friends. ::

  "Something tells me I won't be finding homes for them." Xen checked the three dogs again. They were fine.

  They were fine.

  Time to find some real guts.

  Chapter Ten

  He headed back to the Island, and was once again mobbed by elderly people.

  "Umm, I'll bring some good wine around, but not enough to get really drunk on." Xen stepped through the Corridor before he got guilted into throwing a major smash for the poor quarter of the City.