Crossworld of Xai

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Crossworld of Xai Page 84

by Steven Savage


  “Jade?”

  “Sorry. I’m not exactly into being metaphysical lately. This is depressing.”

  “Yes.” Jade’s mentor nodded. “I understand. They …”

  ” … they’re so used to being this they can’t imagine being who they are.” Jade suddenly answered. “I can tell.”

  “Yes.” HuanJen’s voice held some admiration. “I do understand, but from what I can tell the Panoramic League largely seems to have spent all its time the last few decades about how much they’ve been the Panoramic League.”

  “Like a big advertising campaign.” Jade said sarcastically. “I mean are we going to do any good here? Why is the Guild involved? Why are we involved?”

  “Because they asked for this, and this is tradition.” HuanJen replied. “The Guild would rather it end well. So would I. These things have a way of getting out of hand”

  The two of them stood by the Trolley Stop. There were a few people around, so they huddled next to each other. To most they would have seemed to be a couple cuddling in the chill air.

  “Yeah. I do feel bad for them, but … not totally. Is that … wrong?”

  “No, actually, it’s not a bad thing. You understand. They have experienced what so many experience - deciding they are one thing or a set of things, and so they cannot truly be. To them, the Panoramic League is not something they are part of, but something that must be, something that not only is, but exists in some eternal way beyond the variances of life. They view their traditions as outside of life, and so … when life asserts itself, it is painful. Thus, so is this.”

  “Yeah.” Jade scowled. “You ever get annoyed, that sometimes people don’t get it? That they hurt themselves? That there’s this big unified Life Tao-thing, and they just suffer? Wait, what am I saying …”

  “Constantly. And to answer your inevitable question I accept the suffering. Then I can help.” HuanJen smiled. “Anything you reject or put on a pedestal, anything outside of Life cannot be reached.”

  “I know.” Jade sighed. “Their whole tradition is going away. You get the impression they’re overdoing it?”

  “Attempting to end things more then they have to? Of course.” HuanJen shook his head. “They cannot conceive of them ending or changing over time, so they feel they must end it, cut things off, with some great final gesture. A closing book.”

  “And we’re going to help feed their neuroses. Lovely.” Jade managed some humorous sarcasm at the irony.

  “There are many kinds of help. They chose this. We will make it go smoothly. It’s all we can do, really. At least they can end stabily and quietly and peacefully. There is something to be said for that. Especially after the last year.”

  “I suppose.” Jade shrugged. “Gods, I can’t believe how cold it’s gotten.”

  “This is unusually cold for winter,” the Magician-Priest acknowledged. “Well, as we go over these disks I can make some hot chocolate and we can cuddle.”

  “Now, see, and people say you aren’t romantic. Home-made hot chocolate and social work …”

  “Are you complaining?”

  “No, just being sarcastic. Hey, if Jape is going to be our little go-between and assistant, I’m going to need to stay in practice …”

  “Yes.” HuanJen’s face clouded. “Let us hope we need little go-betweening or assisting …”

  “Like you think Sunny, Moony, and Tradell are going to want to talk to us? Face it, that little distraction was something they hoped would happen. They don’t like this. I know bureaucracy HuanJen. We’re gonna be up to our asses in Jape. “

  December 13, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar

  The Church of the Works of Christ was one of the many oddities dotting the landscape of Xaian Christianity.

  Xaian Christianity was about half oddities. The Xaian Catholic Church represented perhaps fifty percent the people on Xai that practiced the religion. It was organized, it was efficient. It built huge churches and ran charities.

  The other half was an interesting mixture of various groups, churches, healers, miracle-workers, flagellants and more. It was as if there had to be contrast with the stately Xaian Catholic Church.

  The Church of the Works of Christ, only representative of its denomination in Xai, was from the other half. It was its own contrast.

  The church proper looked like a cross between a small warehouse and a bomb shelter. It was the kind of church not only built for Judgment Day, but to be there after it happened.

  It was overseen by one Minister and a few helpful congregation members. It celebrated a rather minimalist form of Christianity, mainly focused around the idea that you never divided faith or works - but got off your backside and did things because of your faith. It had gotten the church a steady membership and local recognition.

  The overseeing minister was Reverend Rake. Rake was a stocky, short man with sandy hair, sporting a few native beads in his birdsnest of hair. He reminded people of an ambulatory fist, despite his good nature.

  Considering he helped support his church by running a job search service in the chaotic city of Metris, it was a miracle to some he maintained that good nature. It seemed to be boundless.

  “Two, ah, hundred?” Rake asked.

  In his messy back office, Rake had been given many requests about jobs. The one HuanJen had just made was the largest he’d ever heard. His boundless good nature was in danger of finding bounds.

  “Two hundred or so,” HuanJen confirmed seriously. He seemed relaxed, sitting in one of the mismatched chairs in the office, but he did not seem quite himself. Normally HuanJen just was - now he seemed to be a concerned man.

  Rake sat back in his chair and propped his feet up on his desk, adjusting his simple black robes so he was comfortable. He started upward for a moment.

  “That, ah, does take time …” Rake began guiltily.

  HuanJen recognized the change in focus of the conversation. Xaian culture, despite its changes and challenges, was a very tight culture, one that quickly integrated immigrants, one that was oriented towards peace and coherence. However, even those who worked on that peace and coherence needed to pay the bills, and sometimes you basically had to ask “where’s the Guilders?”

  “The Guild is helping with the bills.” HuanJen acknowledged. “But … Guild minimums.”

  “Bulk, ah, of course.” Rake scowled, the features of his face moving around like fleshy continental drift. “Byrd, is, ah, involved, and …”

  “I’m sure he won’t mind too much. He knows I will have to call in other people.” HuanJen smiled slightly. “I think he suspected I’d just go to the Administratum. You know how he thinks.”

  “How, ah, little ahead he, ah thought.” Rake took his feet off of the desk. “I’ll ah, have to call in some of the others, network, but, ah, I think we can help. I, ah, would rather keep as much within, ah, the Guild anyway.”

  “I would as well.” The Magician-Priest nodded. “However let us be frank - this will involve the Entertainer’s Guild. I would estimate some eighty percent or more will join Guild Esoteric or the Entertainer’s Guild. Or both.”

  “And this, ah, won’t end until they, ah, all have work?” the minister asked. He was sure he knew the answer, but wanted confirmation.

  “Yes.” HuanJen nodded. “My estimates …”

  “At least a month, maybe, ah, six weeks or seven.” Calculations spun behind Rake’s eyes. “They don’t, ah, seem fussy.”

  “They know which of them is talented and which is not,” HuanJen acknowledged frankly. “Their leadership seems to command enough respect that things will go reasonably smoothly.”

  “Well, I think I, ah, and others can, ah, help out.” Rake looked at his paper-strewn desk for a moment. “We’re, ah, a team again.”

  “Except, let us hope, it is less public.” HuanJen leaned over, resting his elbows on the desk. “I admit … at times I miss the hunt for the Historian and all the excitement.”

  “You, ah, do?” Rake asked.<
br />
  ” … I’d estimate once a month.”

  “Ah. About my, ah rate …”

  December 14, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar

  Few understood The Mocks of the Panoramic League, or if they did, immediately wished they didn’t.

  People understood the jugglers, the prophet-poets, the artcasters, and all of the others. They made you think and feel, looked into the future or the past, and brought things out you wanted to see. The Mocks made you see and hear things you needed to see but avoided.

  Jape had been a Mock for years, and considered himself good at his job. He found it irritating that he wasn’t always welcomed by people whom he considered fellow professionals.

  Such as Jade.

  “So, I showed up at the apartment …” Jape confessed, then stopped. He stared at the table.

  He and Tradell were sitting in the room used by the Court of Mirrors for their meetings. It was not as spectacular as some places they had met, there was a rabble of chairs and tables, all facing the Great Mirror, a rainbowed-glass creation that had been the symbol of the Court for centuries. Jape felt its years staring down at him.

  “She seems high-strung,” Tradell nodded. He seemed more at ease to Jape, at least moreso now that things were beginning. He even had the hood of his robe off - most Court members wore them constantly.

  “I know. And you know, I went and dropped off those resumes, and figured, ehy, take flowers, be nice … she took it all wrong,” Jape moped.

  “What did you take?”

  “Stedilla Lillies. You know, hey, you’re hosting our funeral, and beauty transcends all. She kind of made a face like she’d had a whole bag of lemons in her cheeks.”

  “Yes.” Tradell drummed on the table he sat at. “What we heard suggested she … is temperamental.”

  “I don’t see why they’re a couple myself. Maybe it’s just me, but she’s a real firework.”

  “Ours is not to question the relations of our Guild Esoteric helpers. We would be at it all day.” Tradell smiled in a fatherly way, despite the fact he was only a few years older than Jape.

  “I think maybe … I don’t know. You should pick someone else.”

  “No.” Tradell’s hand cut the air, slicing off any debate. “We need someone who does not take himself seriously. This needs to be done right. I’d rather a Mock than anyone else.”

  “You don’t trust Sun or Moon, do you?” Jape asked seriously.

  The Court Head didn’t answer immediately. When he spoke, his voice was weary and distant.

  “I do not trust any of us. But I know what must be done. You do your job. Stay close to them. We need the relationship for our future …”

  Jape decided not to ask any more questions nor make any more comments. He didn’t feel very funny for some reason.

  December 15, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar

  Garnet and Reverend Rake sat in a dimmed room, looking at one thing that was capable of getting their mutual attention.

  A television set.

  “This is … very strange.” Rake commented, curiously.

  “Well, there’s a plot around all the wrestling,” Garnet said.

  “Now, who is … this, ah, one?”

  Garnet pointed at the screen. “That’s Summoner Seven, he’s sort of The Exorcist’s arch-nemesis. And it looks like he’s been making time with the Black Fox.”

  Rake slowly constructed a chart in his head. “So he’s threatening him because he slept with his manager?”

  “Yes, I …” Garnet’s brow furrowed. “Rake, your stutter … or lack of it …”

  “Ah, sorry.” Rake grinned sheepishly. “A bit of The, ah, Voice came out. I suppose I need divine help to, ah, understand this.”

  “Well careful, you accidentally blast the living room or turn tapwater into wine and Slate’s gonna be pissed.” Garnet wasn’t sure if she was joking. She’d never seen Rake manifest The Voice directly, and quite frankly she didn’t want to. Rake, at somewhere of his late thirties or forty, had long ago lost his teeth to the mysterious power that could manifest through his speaking - she didn’t want to find out what else it could do.

  “No, ah, problem. Hmmm. Now who’s that,” Rake pointed at one of the colorfully-dressed figures on the television.

  “Catacylsma. She hates Summoner Seven, but she doesn’t like the Exorcist … well, damn, she’s got photos of Seven with the Black Fox! I bet …”

  “Commercial.” Rake intoned a heartbeat before an add interrupted the testosterone-fueled drama on the screen. He could tell - he watched more television than he’d admit.

  “Nice call.” Garnet blinked. “Wow, an add for the Prostitute’s Guild. I guess no one told the station that Luther Turlow won the election for the Guildhead this morning.”

  “Prepaid, ah, doubtlessly.” Rake stood as the ad’s ‘it’s about people’ theme played. “I’m going to, ah, get something to drink, do you, ah mind …”

  “No, Garnet shook her head. “Make yourself at home. Get me a glass of water if you don’t mind?”

  “Of, ah, course.” Rake headed for the kitchen. It wasn’t very far from the living room - a quick cut through the dining room and he was there. He was still able to carry on his conversation with Garnet.

  “Well with, ah, Turlow reelected I think we don’t, ah, have any more guild-related crises …”

  Garnet smiled randily even though Rake couldn’t see her. “And I’m sure Miss Hixx will enjoy her retirement so much more.”

  “Well, now, ah, that’s just a rumor, and Mr. Turlow is, ah … what fifteen years her, ah, junior?”

  “I call it as I hear it,” the red-furred Vulpine retorted.

  “Listening to rumors again, ah, shame.” Rake Joked, sorting through the glasses in one of the kitchen cabinets. There were some rather odd choices, suggesting that Slate and Garnet had thrown nothing out when they’d moved, and probably acquired quite a bit in the way of donations from friends and neighbors.

  “Sometimes I think I hear more than anyone,” Garnet sniggered, recalling some conversations with the representatives of the neighborhood who had greeted her and her husband’s arrival. Your average stay-at-home housewife or househusband heard a lot more than some people assumed.

  “Yes.” Rake found a pitcher of water and poured two glasses. “Hmmm, on that subject …”

  “I know enough of what HuanJen and Jade are up to. Also, I know about Brandon and Riakka, and I think Zero may have a thing for Riakka. Clairice didn’t date that doctor, and Lorne and Xianfu are happy. Any other questions?”

  “No, ah, except maybe you should, ah, join Guild Esoteric as a diviner.” Rake walked back into the living room and handed Garnet her glass. “I suppose …”

  “Lorne wants to make sure Jade and HuanJen are supportive since he … suspects … ahem, they’ve got some troubleshooting with Guild Esoteric.”

  Rake’s expression didn’t conceal his emotion - Garnet couldn’t just read his face like a book, his face was practically reading aloud to her.

  “Yes, ah, yes. I think, some of us, ah, feel guilty over Old Man Green, even if that was, ah, some time ago.”

  Garnet patted Rake’s knee as he sat on the couch next to her. “Things change. Hey, I owe HuanJen and he … well, and Jade is honestly one of my best friends. We’ll be there if needed.”

  Rake nodded. “One … ah, one should remember how, ah, important friends are. People you share things with. Ah, before things change.”

  After a moments thought, Garnet decided not to ask. As nosy as she was, she knew when to leave things alone. There was a time to just stay with your friends - and watch wrestling.

  December 18, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar

  Jade sat in one of the small meeting rooms at Hixx’s Convention Center, doing her job. HuanJen often said that he did what he did, that the term “job” was just a term for what he did naturally. Jade understood.

  But this now felt like a job - punctuated with moments of feeli
ng like she was at a madhouse. She wasn’t sure if she was an inmate or not.

  “Thanks.” Jade smiled at the person across from her. A person dressed in an outfit of multiple colors except, apparently, blue. A person with a shaved head and strange tatoos on her scalp.

  She was meeting a lot of people in the Panoramic League.

  And each one of them had a story.

  She had to listen to a lot of stories.

  The person she had just talked to, Yandella, was a diviner who painted. Whereas Dealer Zero read cards, she read paints. She’d also paint anything including (she had happily admitted) herself. It was, Jade figured, sort of like reading tea leaves, except you better keep the turpentine handy.

  She was going to end up joining the Entertainer’s Guild and Guild Esoteric. Rake had found a position for her - admittedly Jade couldn’t understand exactly what the position was, but it’d keep Yandella in money, paints and respectability. Or at least the first two.

  “Thank you.” Yandella smiled. “Oh, something for you!”

  The artist handed Jade a package, and then with a smile, left the room. Jade considered opening it, then just set it aside. She had enough to do now.

  Jade looked over her papers. HuanJen was meeting with Sun and Moon while Tradell and the Court were at something at Shard Tower. She was talking with the people Rake and his various cohorts had found positions for. As stressful as it was, she admitted, HuanJen had gotten the fuzzy end of this particular clerical lollypop.

  “Hey, Jade!”

  … or maybe not.

  Jape bounded into the room in a vertiginous streak of enthusiasm that made her want to kill things. Jape. She’d begun to think of him as a very friendly human hemorrhoid.

  “How goes it?” Jape queried. “You look a little tired, you should stop pushing yourself, lest something push back.”

  “I am fine.” Jade checked her watch. Suddenly, she knew what was coming. The cynical part of her quickly ran some social calculations.

  “Want to get some lunch? I can fill you in on the latest developments. HuanJen is having quite a meeting. It may be stressful, but …”

  “I will eat on my own.” Jade waved off Jape.

 

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