by Macronomicon
Jeb’s Core flickered, shrinking slightly in size as the burning center of his being was drawn down the pipe.
With a monumental effort of will, Jeb pinched off the thread of Myst, his chin collapsing down to his chest.
So, telekinesis is off the table. Good to know.
“That…sucked.” Jeb groaned.
“I’ll bet,” the sophisticated-looking melas man said, brow raised. “Do you have any more?”
“More what? You’re going to have to be specific.”
“Do you have any more documents linking us to Kebos O’sut?”
“Of course,” Jeb said, meeting the bastard’s eyes. “I mean, not on me, but yeah, I’ve got a hidden stash.”
Jeb actually had two hidden stashes, but telling the guy he had one wasn’t a lie…not unless Jeb said he only had one. It was necessary to head off certain lines of inquiry by ceding misleading information.
“Where is it?”
“Telling you that seems like it would get me killed,” Jeb shot back.
“Quite astute, but you should consider your life spent at this point anyway. Instead, you should think about what other lives will be lost if you remain obstinate,” Mr. Sophistication said, coming closer and leaning down.
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll have to kill everyone you’ve come to know in Solmnath and burn your ridiculous orphanage to the ground with everyone locked inside.”
“How are you gonna lock them inside if you’ve already killed them? And if you’re talking about the corpses, it seems kind of redundant to lock the—”
A sharp slap knocked the last words out of Jeb’s mouth.
“It is not an idle threat,” the melas said, so close Jeb could smell the man’s lunch.
Jeb considered bisecting the man then and there, but with the two beefcakes in the back, it would be a short-lived victory. Best to wait until the numbers became manageable.
Jeb didn’t have to wait too long. A couple minutes of questioning later, the entire room shook, and shortly afterward, there was a polite knock on the door.
Mr. Sophistication ducked his head out the door.
“What!” The startled exclamation was the only thing Jeb could make out, followed by some harsh whispers.
“Watch him!” Mr. Sophistication said, pointing at Jeb as he rushed out, slamming the door behind him.
Suddenly silence reigned, and Jeb was alone with the two bruisers, who watched him with dim-witted malevolence.
“Sooo. Do you guys wanna play bridge or something?” Jeb asked with a shrug.
As it turned out, they did not want to play bridge.
“I was thinking more along the lines of making you squeal like a breek caught in a fence,” the left one said, unfolding his arms.
The entire building trembled.
“Is anyone else concerned about that?” Jeb asked as the right-hand thug picked a sharp blade off the table, eyeing Jeb menacingly.
“Oh, lay off the sharp objects, dude,” Jeb said with exasperation. “If you cut me in the wrong place and I bleed out, your boss is gonna kill you.”
The two glanced at each other and shared a dim look.
“What are we supposed to do, then?” he asked his friend.
“You work me over with your hands. Start from the outside and work your way in. Break my fingers and toes, as it’s very difficult to kill me from damage to those. Then you beat my arms, legs, and ribcage around a little bit, but be careful not to make me bleed internally too badly. Am I the only one who knows the right way to torture someone?” Jeb asked.
“That sounds like a lot of thinking.”
“Torture is a serious responsibility,” Jeb said. “You shouldn’t try it if you’re not interested in it.”
The guy stomped on Jeb’s toes with his thick boot.
“AAAHH! FUCK!”
“You got a smart mouth,” the melas brute said, lifting his foot off of Jeb’s toes.
“Eh.” Jeb shrugged, too pained to come up with something clever.
The room wobbled. For an instant, Jeb felt like he was gonna fall sideways as gravity seemed to shudder to the side before returning to its usual direction. The floor under his ass creaked in protest as it settled back.
“The Roil was that?” Leftie asked, steadying himself on the table.
“Maybe you should…”
“I’ll check it out,” Leftie said, stabbing the knife back into the table and heading for the door.
Jeb winked three times with his right eye, taking advantage of their distraction. He glanced over at the murder-buckler, making double-sure of the yellow arrow’s trajectory, what with the room shaking and all.
It had shifted a little, but it wasn’t aimed at Jeb, so that was good. Once the other bruiser had left the room, it was time to act. If he didn’t escape now, he was asking to die.
“I’ve been wondering, is it normal for melas women to burst into flame during orgasm?” Jeb asked, getting the brute’s attention. “Because that’s the sort of thing I’ll need to know if I start dating Vresh Tekalis.”
The melas scowled. “What would you know about it?”
“Check my dick for burn marks,” Jeb said, waggling his hips with a grin. “Could it be from your mom? You decide.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” the melas said, prying the dagger out of the wood and approaching Jeb menacingly with it.
Jeb watched carefully as the man’s legs entered the simulated strike zone.
“Yellow go fast.”
“Yellow go wha—”
The murder-buckler flung itself in the direction of the yellow arrow, spinning violently as it did, the Udium saw blades audibly tearing through the air. It treated flesh like water, and stone like butter in its mission to follow the trajectory of the yellow arrow.
Chunk! The bloody murder-buckler bored through the stone flooring beside Jeb’s leg as the melas brute toppled forward, his eyes wide with surprise.
Jeb tugged at the shredded rope behind his back, freeing his hands as the legless melas fell forward, eyes wide. The telekinetic blade was still sawing away right at the edge of Jeb’s skin as he brought his arms to bear.
In a heartbeat, Jeb grabbed the dagger with his right hand, and the man’s horns with his left, steering them both out of the danger zone. Jeb didn’t want to get stabbed by a falling asshole he’d already beat.
That would be embarrassing.
“AII—!” The melas let out a shrill scream before Jeb stabbed him in the throat, shutting him up.
Jeb’s enemy didn’t go down fast or easy, struggling with everything he had while bleeding from both legs and the throat. Were the man not so mortally wounded, he would’ve utterly destroyed Jeb. As it was, Jeb was drenched with blood by the time the bruiser went still.
Jeb collapsed against the wall, panting, the dagger drooping in his hands. Jeb wasn’t sure if the blood he tasted in his mouth was from overexertion or from the puddle he was sitting in.
Could be both.
Jeb desperately tried to catch his breath as he thought of Step 2: He needed to get this collar off, or failing that, he needed to get the chain off the wall. The chain looked like old-fashioned steel, and the murder-buckler should be able to cut through it easily enough.
Jeb glanced over at the disc-shaped hole in the floor where the buckler had punctured through.
Might be easier said than done, he thought.
CRACK!
There was a tearing sound that was felt through the entire room, almost as if some enormous beam that had been supporting the floor had been mostly severed by some asshole’s saw blade, and had chosen this exact moment to give out.
The floor fell out from under him.
My neck! Jeb thought, grabbing the chain as he began falling through the air.
Chapter 26: The Storm (Pt. 2)
***Brett***
Brett was no stranger to a party.
He’d never been to a party with naked bird-women carrying trays of hors d’oeu
vres, but still: If you’ve been to one orgy where everyone’s wearing a big-bird mask, you’ve been to them all.
Amanda and Brett split apart like hunters herding their prey, splitting the meet-and-greets up for maximum effect. He went left and smiled and shook hands, bowed and waggled his neck at all the horrible feudal jokes, while Amanda took the right-hand side of the party, with the aim of meeting in the center.
Once they’d met up, they could team up to distract high-value targets. Normally Amanda would distract potential clients while he ran interference, but in this case, gender wasn’t really an issue, and a large portion of the aliens seemed to find breasts strange, rather than enticing.
So they switched jobs, and Amanda was in charge of prying people away from important dignitaries, while Brett swept in from the side and engaged them in rousing tales of the Impossible Tutorial, their primary claim to fame.
Then he would subtly guide the conversation towards the advertising business, and how modern humans used mass communication to shape public opinion.
“Like those shows of yours!” the kitri diplomat said, his neck waggling in amusement as he pointed at Brett. “You know, up until recently, the mass communication system has always belonged to the government.
“I mean, I enjoy your show, but there’s no market for selling plays to the masses without even charging admission,” he said, taking a drink of his wine.
Brett smiled and began to regale him with tales of the power of ‘advertising’ and how a popular show could be funded purely through businesses if it featured their products. Hell, with the right support, Brett and Amanda could create an entire series that would entertain millions, all while spreading their sponsor’s name to the far reaches of the empire.
A local tried to horn in on Brett’s action and Amanda grabbed him by the elbow and steered him forcibly away, chatting amiably as the poor keegan struggled to extricate himself.
Thanks, honey.
The party was going rather well, as the pair pitched the idea of television to anyone with the money to fund it. In a few years, they might be the proud owners of a global syndicate.
They’d rather be the people signing the checks, after all.
It was just something to do while they waited for Jeb to show up with his list. Oddly enough, the cripple hadn’t contacted them when they arrived, although the emperor reassured them that their friend would arrive on time.
I wonder when the shit’s gonna hit the fan? Brett wondered idly. During their brief, the emperor had basically told them to roll with whatever bizarre series of events happened in the throne room, and that it would all be over in a matter of minutes.
The last guest had just been announced when a strange vibration rocked the mansion, causing the chandeliers to swing above their heads.
Umm… What was that? Brett thought, glancing up at the wobbling lights.
Click, click, click! A retainer in the emperor’s colors sprinted along the side of the ballroom, dodging around one of the serving girls, nearly colliding with her.
The keegan runner headed to the center of the ballroom, where the emperor was chatting with the governor of Solmnath. The governor was not quite powerful enough to be a king, but was still in charge of the oversized city. With the addition of L.A.’s infrastructure, the man was likely to become one of Pikaku’s vassal kings.
The emperor held out an oversized claw, motioning for silence while the runner whispered in his ear. The entire ballroom fell silent, and soon enough only quiet whispers spread through the hall. Brett thought he saw an instant of alarm in the emperor’s expression, but he couldn’t quite tell, being a human.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the emperor said into the quiet, heading up to the raised throne at the far end of the hall and taking a seat, placing himself above all others.
I gotta admit…he does look a little like Big Bird, Brett thought.
“The Roil is coming here.”
The Emperor’s voice echoed through the stunned silence for a moment, before all hell broke loose around Amanda and Brett.
“The walls aren’t finished yet!”
“It was heading northeast, directly away from Solmnath!”
“Why would it—”
Brett caught Amanda’s gaze and shrugged. They’d heard ‘the Roil’ used as a swear word plenty of times, but nobody’d ever said it could come after you.
The emperor held up a clawed hand, then pointed to one of his vassals, a kitri in gold and white brocade.
“Calm yourselves, please. Tiyaku, if you would show us what we’re dealing with.”
The bird nodded and spread its arms, facing the northeast corner of the hall. A thick thread of Myst spooled out of the bird-person, and resolved into a huge image of the city of Solmnath, taken from a bird’s-eye view.
In the distance, the horizon wavered and scintillated as some invisible thing warped the light passing through it. A pale trail of stone was left in the wake of the invisible storm.
“Thank you, Tiyaku,” the emperor said, nodding to his vassal, who dropped the magic with a weary sag of their shoulders.
“It’s time for you to fulfill the oaths of your office,” the emperor said to the assembled nobles, clicking his talons on the throne. “You are in luck, as my travelling guard has a fair number of Warders, and I’m pleased to offer them to defend the city. In light of that, you should need no more than a hundred of your number to keep the Roil at bay.”
Brett glanced around, noting that there were approximately a hundred and fifty nobles.
“I would be honored to serve!” the governor shouted valiantly, pounding his chest in a very non-keegan move.
“As would I!”
“My family expects nothing less from me!”
In short order, every single noble had volunteered, overeager to show off in front of the big cheese.
“Come now,” the emperor said. “You would leave me here to eat all the hors d’oeuvres alone? I might be powerful, but I’m physically incapable of housing that much food.”
The emperor tapped his claw against his beak for a moment, head bobbing back and forth in thought. “I understand your honor and your willingness to serve, but that’s simply overkill. I would prefer to keep a few of you in reserve and preserve the ambiance of the night as much as possible.
“I know,” the emperor said, raising a claw. “We’ll draw straws. The long sticks may go and fend off the hateful abomination, and the short sticks will remain here and keep me company.”
One of the nearby imperial guards turned to the nearby servants and began barking instructions. “Servants, twenty of you go to the serving tables and grab eight chopsticks, then shorten two. Then half of you discard a short one.”
“Apologies for the rushed math,” the bird on the throne said. “We are in a bit of a hurry.”
As if to accentuate the man’s words, the entire building shuddered again.
Curious, Brett went to the window, where the crowd of aliens had begun to gather. The mansion had a great view of the walls of the city, perched atop a high hill in a manner that allowed them to overlook their lessers. In the distance, the walls of Solmnath began to glow and expand.
…What?
The walls glowed faintly teal, the layered stone pulling apart, resolving into smaller and smaller parts as it seemed to flow into a kind of cloud that expanded up and over the city proper…
It’s making a dome, Brett realized as he watched the unfinished edges of the walls billow outward, connecting with each other to form a curved surface of faintly glowing dust, perhaps five feet thick and perfectly smooth.
The dome was rising just in time to present a unified front to the wavering cloud of twisted light. Outside the confines of the wall, the land shifted riotously, plants growing and withering in a matter of seconds, the land and weather seemingly shifting like waves on the ocean.
Solmnath presented a tiny, pale blue barrier against the raging chaos battering against the city, and somehow, t
he city resisted.
Or maybe not, Brett thought, his superhuman eyes picking up a few palm trees visibly shrinking inside the blue barrier. A few buildings collapsed, their support transmuted to bone rather than wood.
A servant politely tapped Brett’s shoulder, dragging him out of his gawking. The kitri held a fistful of chopsticks out to him.
Short stick… Usually that’s a bad thing, but I think in this case…that might not be a bad thing. Brett glanced over his shoulder toward the stream of nobles running for the exit at superhuman speeds. When he looked down, he could already see the tiny figures heading for the walls, their fancy robes billowing behind them like capes.
Almost like superheroes, he thought idly.
Amanda grabbed Brett’s shoulder and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I got a long straw. I’ll be back soon, babe!”
Brett’s heart seized with worry. Amanda’s going out into that? Normally Brett would be wholeheartedly against it, but with great power… “Don’t die. You can abandon them if you have to,” Brett called after her.
After all, Brett had the sneaking suspicion it would be more dangerous to stay.
Brett glanced at the emperor. The bird met his gaze.
He winked.
Is this what he meant by rolling with the weirdness? Brett thought, frowning. Once the last of the long-straws had left the room, he watched the oversized double doors close with a strange sense of finality.
A sudden pulse of sideways gravity nearly plucked Brett off his feet, dragging his attention back to the window. The storm had just impacted against the pale dome of luminescing dust, and the defensive wall’s glow waned for a gut-wrenching second before the brightness stabilized.
“Come away from the windows, guests of mine; your peers have the situation well in hand. If more strength is needed, I will shoulder that responsibility with the rest of you. Be at ease.”
The nobles stepped away from the wall, but with only a couple dozen people left in the room, the conversation was greatly diminished. Honestly, it felt like trying to host a cocktail party in a foxhole, just waiting for a shell to drop in and turn them all to burger.
They could go through the motions, but their heart wasn’t in it.