Duty

by P. S. Power

  “We need to load up. Especially on drinks and drugs. Then I’ll head back to the fire line. It’s… horrible, out there. Even with all the magics being used, we’re barely holding it. I should fight, only…” He felt lazy and cowardly, not doing his part that way.

  Others, men and women both, were out there trying to hold the blaze back. Standing in the fire itself, trying to use force of will to keep nature at bay. All he was doing was taking them cool beverages. It wasn’t a horrible thing, but it wasn’t exactly heroic of him.

  Then, Albert knew that his part in the world wasn’t that. He wasn’t the hero of the tale at all. He never had been. No, his place was off to the side. Bringing people water and on occasion, running around screaming things until he got his way.

  It was better than just being drunk and sweeping floors. Not that he wasn’t going to get a drink, as soon as the emergency was over. Not that he really could. He still had to see to the project with the handhelds. As he rode back to the fire line, with a load of food, drinks and drugs, he did just that. There were problems of course. Things that he had to try to fix while working on something completely different.

  It wasn’t boring, at least. For the first time in a long while, Albert kind of wished it was.

  Chapter eight

  As insane as it sounded to him, Sam Builder came to find him in the evening of the second day. Albert hadn’t slept and didn’t figure it would be happening for a long while, since the blaze that had come into being was still intense. Every time they ended it in one area, another, sometimes miles away, would catch and take hold. Everyone, from the Count all the way down to the lowest person there, him, was starting to think that something else was going on. That, for some mad reason that no one could explain, the fire itself was being set.

  Worse, people were dying when it happened. The fighters on the line did their part, flying and at times running on foot, to the new zone where things had to be fought. More than once, Albert and Terlee both drove giant Tam-vehicles directly into the burning woods themselves, to both deliver water and move people into and out of, danger.

  For all that Tim Baker was willing to hand out millions of golds worth of the highest end shields, the fact that new conflagrations were springing up in different locations meant that, no matter how hard they tried, part of the people trying to save their homes and cities were doing it with nothing more than the shirt on their back and, if they were lucky, some damp rags. Even with healing amulets being used, mainly by Erie and her friend Carissa, they were getting there too late to save people. Far too often.

  In at least a few cases, as the bitchy High Servant had mentioned to him, people, particularly women, though girls and boys as well, were going missing. Many figured they were being lost to the fires as they ran for their lives.

  Albert had his doubts.

  Mainly because they were always going missing just before the fighters got to them. As if they saw them coming in the distance and ran away, directly into the burning world around them. That might have happened, once or twice. Not the half dozen times that had taken place that he knew of. Always just ahead of them getting there, as well. Not after. Not due to some kind of fear or mental illness that suddenly took people.

  Not even once did he hear of a person simply running at the fire for no reason. To save others, certainly. Even he ended up doing that, a time or two, trying to make things work.

  When the Ancient of Noram, Sam, came for him, the other man was dressed in finery, and clapped him on the shoulder, near the transport boxes that had been moved every two or three hours, along with their base. No one was sleeping for long. They came in, cleaned up and got drugs so they could keep going. That was all. Most refused to leave the line at all, meaning people had to go to them, in order to keep them alive.

  It was brutal, and worse for those doing the actual work.

  “Are you ready?” There was a worried tone to his voice, as the thick smoke billowed around the tall man, his mid-tone hair nicely taken care of already.

  Albert blinked at him, his mouth falling open. Getting what he meant, simply not believing it was being spoken of.

  “The meal with King Richard? I’d… thought that I’d skip out on that. I have a bit to do here. Nothing really important, maybe, but my little part.”

  Before Sam could explain how important the King was and how you shouldn’t basically tell him no, about almost anything, if you had a choice, Terlee, looking exhausted, walked over. She might have been the Countess there, but the woman had almost instantly dressed in plain and practical brown clothing, to match him. Both of them had soot on them in places. Albert had a few blistering burns, even, from earlier, when he’d pulled a man from the line, by force, as fires licked at both of their skins.

  The other man had healed, drank much water and taken the drugs offered. Then gone back to the fight. It was brave enough that Albert had to think of something else so he wouldn’t start crying. Tilting his head back helped a bit that way, for some reason. It held the moisture in, a bit.

  The tiny woman patted his left arm, near the elbow.

  “Go. We need to report in, anyway, and I doubt that Toverland has had the time for that. Don’t take long. I can manage for a while, but even with the things you’ve given me, I’m going to have to rest soon. In a few hours, if not sooner. You should go over the things that you were speaking of, earlier.” The woman nearly whispered the words, as if it were a secret and not an open topic of discussion there.

  That he, Albert of the Broom, should be the one to talk to anyone important made no sense. Except that he had an invitation, that important people seemed to think he needed to see to, that night.

  Looking down at himself, he shrugged.

  “I’ve never been that good with costumes and all that. I can shower first, I guess. That’s good enough for a King, right?”

  Sam nodded, smiling, if only the tiniest bit. There was a sad air to it at the same time, since only a monster would laugh and play while people kept dying all around them. Though it was possible that the other man didn’t really understand that was going on that day. He hadn’t been there, for some reason. Then, most people weren’t. Thousands had come in, to volunteer. It was almost enough. It would have been, if they could have simply addressed the single problem and things didn’t keep springing up all over the place on them.

  “Good. We should hurry, if you don’t mind? It’s a small affair, meaning we will be noticed if we’re late. I can help with the clothing, if you wish?”

  Al nodded, then walked away, not speaking. Not because he wanted to be rude. He just didn't have the energy left to do more than function. He could shower and do his job. The drugs weren’t enough for him to care about stupid things as well, at the same time. Which no doubt made him the perfect person to run alone to the palace that evening. He could start out by making demands in a short and surly fashion, then ease into name calling and then, naturally, screaming, as the guards came to beat him for it.

  Still, he hurried, coming back no more than ten minutes later, dried and with his shoulder length hair brushed and somewhat tied back with a piece of twine that he’d found on the ground. He wasn’t certain, but he thought that it might have been dropped by Tor, an amulet breaking off or something when it had been the mighty wizard’s turn to eat and rest for a few moments, before returning to the battle against the flames.

  Sam took his arm and guided him toward one of the red booths. Thomson Fire Two, even if it had been moved to be closest to the temporary base, when he’d set them up last. There was no reason for that, it had just been the one that he’d grabbed first. Once inside, he felt his clothing alter around him. Becoming softer. It was still, interestingly enough, all in brown. Robes, for some reason, like the High Servants wore.

  Around the cuffs, instead of there being gold trim, there was a simple band of near black. A brown that was almost blue, in some aspects. The boots were the same style that he’d had on the whole time. The only differenc
e was that they were black and shiny, suddenly. On his chest, over his heart, was an adorably cute silver and gold colored owl badge. It was, interestingly enough, the same one that they used for The Eternal, on the sign out front.

  Which meant that Sam Builder not only knew where Albert worked, he’d also been there, at least once. Well, unless the man had used magic to learn about him, of course. That he might have that kind of power was only sensible to imagine.

  The Ancient of Noram took a single breath, then tapped the back wall of the pod, until they had a destination. The Capital Space Port.

  As they stepped out, into the night, with glowing lights all around them, Sam started to speak.

  “It’s the closest location that a normal transport pod can reach. At least as far as getting to the King or his family goes. We’ll need to go to my place to use the private transportation system, I have there. That… You might not want to tell people about that. It’s a bit of a decadent thing to have, really. Useful, but I only try to use it in emergencies. I think this might count?” The man actually seemed worried about the idea, as if Al was going to give him grief over having a few nice things.

  He just nodded and started to follow the man, back and to the left. Hurrying on foot. After a moment, of walking, feeling exhausted, Albert gave in and let his shield carry him, floating a few scant inches over the ground. Directing the movement with his mind.

  Sam, looking around, as if people would think less of him for using magic, did the same thing. Then they were able to speed up a good bit.

  “Good thinking. There have been some things going on, or I would have been there, at the fire, trying to help. As it is, I want to take a river in, when we go back. I don’t have one ready to go. We need Tor for that, I think.” The words were soft, as if the other man didn’t want to scare him.

  As if he wasn’t living in constant fear already.

  “Tor? Right.” As they moved, Albert got his handheld out, and tapped the name once it came up. It took half a minute for the sweating and soot covered man, his face less than pretty at the moment, with worry and concern, to show up in his palm.

  “Albert?”

  “We need a river. Can you get one for us? I’m going to… a nice meal with the King. I can pick things up, on my way out, or…” He didn't know at all. He didn't even feel demanding as the words came out, calling for a magical river to be delivered to them for his private use.

  If shields cost thousands of golds each in Noram, a flying river was so expensive that no one actually bought or sold them. They were priceless. Making asking for one a good joke, except that he couldn’t manage to smile at the moment.

  Tor simply nodded.

  “That’s… I should have thought of that already. I have three of them in my things, in Vagus. My wife, Alyssa, she can get that for you. You’ll need to go and get it from there. She’s pregnant and I don’t want her to be stressed by this event, if…”

  Albert simply nodded, forcing his head to move using the marvelous power of drugs, instead of his own will.

  “Understood. Congratulations. I’ll connect with her now.” That didn't make sense, except that the other man just stared for a moment, then squinted a bit.

  “Thanks. I really should have thought of it earlier. That I didn’t is a sign that I’m getting lazy, I think. I need to get back to using the suppressor. Later!” The last word was nearly yelled. Then the screen went to black, before switching to the flow of blue glowing words and sigils.

  Albert shook his head, as they got into the magical palace where Noram kept their Ancient. It was nice. Large as well. The other man waved to him, sunk to the ground and ran then. Al followed, doing that as well. They had a bit of a trip, which made it hard to use the handheld.

  “Um… Alice Wizard?” He spoke out loud, his head not really working correctly any longer, after the stress and lack of sleep of the last day.

  Sam, thankfully, knew the real answer.

  “Alyssa Baker, in the Terry system. She is a wizard, though. Really nice, too.” There was worry in the voice again, which Albert understood this time.

  He’d been walking around acting like a despotic monster for the last day. Not barking at people, but being so demanding that word had probably been getting around. It was the accella, of course, not his natural shyness, that was doing the trick. He was six doses in on the stuff and it would make a person odd, after a while. It was the lack of sleep and rest as well, more than the drug itself.

  He found the name, and stood in front of a familiar looking gold and cream white magical pod as he tapped the correct place to make the connection. He hadn’t even bothered to see what time it was in Vagus, if the woman was there at all. Almost instantly a decently attractive face showed up. The hair was blonde and under that was a lot of red. Probably from a set of mage robes.

  “Good afternoon. This is Alyssa Baker.”

  “Albert here. Tor said that he has three magical rivers in his things? Also, that we might beg you to get those for us, for County Thomson to borrow, in order to fight the fires, there? I can go to you and get them in… A few hours? I have to go and see King Richard first, or I’d do that now.”

  There was a half pause, then a smile.

  “Albert Benoist?”

  He blinked, that being the only thing he had energy for at the moment.

  “Right.”

  “I’ve heard about you then, in recent days. I’ll have those ready for you, sitting next to the Vagus Space Port transport hut. I’ll mark it with a note. No one will touch it. Not here. It will take me about twenty minutes to have that ready for you. Any time after that will work for pick-up. Is… Everyone all right there?” She seemed tense about the question. Scared.

  “More or less. A few towns people have died, fighting the fire without shields. All of the ones that you know are fine, I think. The shields work and we have healing amulets. We just can’t get to the real people fast enough to save them all.” The words had come out wrong.

  The woman managed a heartfelt sigh, in response.

  “That’s always a problem. We can’t be everywhere. Thank you, for your service in this, in case everyone else forgets. They won’t later. It’s just, in the moment, it can be hard to see to other people that way.”

  She was probably chastising him for being rude to her, he realized. Still, he nodded back, trying not to seem half dead.

  “Thanks to you as well. It sounds like those rivers will really help. I… I’m different than this, normally. I don’t want you to think that I’d normally manage to speak this much without shyly stammering and turning red.” He was trying to joke.

  She didn't so much as crack a smile.

  “Good to know, for next time. I’ll have those things waiting for you.”

  She started to say goodbye in a lengthy fashion, which got Sam to wave him into the ornate box. When they were on the other side, he moved his head into range of the screen.

  “We’re here, at the palace. We should talk soon. I hear that you’re in a family way? That’s special, isn’t it? There should be a party, at the very least.”

  That got a laugh, if a soft one.

  “I’m only about a month in. Tor is acting like every sneeze is too huge of an effort for me. We’re not planning to do anything special for it.” She glanced over at Albert, and winked. “Which is a hint for you two to put something together. Later though. I’ll get off this thing now. Bye!”

  Albert managed a nod before the thing cut off. Then placed it in his side pocket. The robe had one, which was useful, really. As they stepped out of the nice transport box, they were in a small room. A rather nice one, really. Across from them were two men, dressed in purple and black.

  “Announce yourselves, if it pleases you.” This came from the fit looking man on the left. A Royal Guard, given they were literally in King Richard’s home. That sort was bound to hang around in that kind of place.

  “Sam Builder. Ancient of Noram.” There was no pride in the word
s. It was a simple announcement of who was there. A thing the men guarding the door clearly knew. They were watching Al much more closely, of course. He wasn’t going to be familiar and had to look a sight, since he hadn’t healed at all yet.

  “Um… Albert Benoist. Janitor.”

  Neither man smiled at what he said. They simply looked at a list of names, and then, as one, both of them bowed, going low. For Sam, of course.

  “Very good, gentlemen. We’ll call for a guide, to the small dining room.”

  Even if Sam knew the way, they were going to be taken there by a man in black clothing, it seemed. An elderly fellow, with silver hair and white gloves. Probably a butler or something like that. Al had seen that kind of thing, in Austran movies and wall plays. Again, being inside, they had to walk, using their own feet, even if his were kind of sore at the moment. Tired more than anything else. Then, he’d been on them for over twenty-four hours, not having taken time to sit, except when driving one of the Tam-cars.

  After a long while, trudging hard to keep up with the spry older man and the Ancient of Noram, since Sam had incredibly long legs, being a noble by birth as he clearly was, they reached a rather plain seeming door. A heavy looking one. The kind of thing that would be right at home on a cell, except that the outside had carvings in the structure of it.

  Swirls and designs, instead of pictures of people or animals.

  When it opened, Albert could see that others were already inside. The King, at the far end. The man only looking about thirty, even if he was closer to seventy. His wife had to be in the same age range. Queen Constance didn’t look it at all, seeming to be about nineteen or twenty. If that was her at all. She was at the table, but Albert had never been that keen on knowing who was who in the royal family, even before he’d left for the Moon.

  There were other people in the room, as well. A very pretty woman, who looked almost like Tor or one of his sisters, next to a strong looking man with a slightly red beard and dark eyes. Next to them was a girl who probably had seen about sixteen years. She was fine looking, though had clearly not made any real effort to dress up for the evening. Everyone else was in clothing that seemed a lot like what Sam had on, or slightly nicer. This woman, the youngest looking one, was in basic workman’s brown.