Duty

by P. S. Power

  Forcing a smile, he nodded.

  “Ah? The Ancients finally decided to replace me with someone more competent and attractive? That’s smart of them. Though there is the neat part where I don’t get paid. I bet that makes it harder to replace me than it seems on the surface.”

  His voice was somber. Mainly thanks to the stress of knowing that there was nothing he could do to help those women who had been kidnapped. It bothered him, almost constantly. He’d been too close to some of them, unable to really do anything, for him to forget or think of it as a situation that was far away from him. Albert had helped the one woman get back to her home, that first day. Under guard.

  She also had a good shield, given to her directly by Tim Baker, even if the wizard didn’t know that he’d done it. That was a call that Albert needed to put in, just in case any guards ever checked the woman out and found her in possession of such a thing.

  The audacity of giving that kind of thing away, after the fire was out, from the man himself was incredible, of course. Probably enough to have him taken before the Ancients Council or whatever they were doing at the moment. It was on the Moon, and so far they didn't officially have any kind of death penalty. They didn't even have prisons. If you wronged anyone, you had to fix it, or you were stripped naked and placed in the main hallways to beg forgiveness, if you couldn’t repair the damage. No one was seriously battered, raped or in general murdered, since everyone was provided with a space worthy shield.

  In the few cases where death had resulted from attempts to kill, the people who had done it had died. No one had ever mentioned how that had taken place. The one case where it hadn’t gone that way had been from before Albert had moved there. A noble had gone into a rage and killed an Austran for being nosy. For some reason they’d just let the noble go.

  It was one of those special situations where the rules weren’t going to go that way for him, if the situation were ever to involve the Broom Man.

  On the good side, Tim Baker had flat out stated that he could give away shields for Timon, if the need arose. Always. So, he’d simply have to prove that the small woman, Maran Teegs, deserved to feel safe, after her ordeal. That was all.

  Tiera opened the box at the front and waved her hand down the hallway. It was brightly colored, but from the designs, they were along the main strip of Harmony. The first city of the Moon. Functionally their capital city. People bustled up and down the way, which was about sixty feet across and nearly that high. No one stopped to stare at them for too long, though they got some looks. More to the point, Tiera, the former Queen and current Ancient, got that sort of attention.

  It didn’t hurt that she was incredibly good looking, of course.

  A long finger pointed to the right, past what seemed to be the magic shop. Albert had been there before, once.

  “We’re taking over Tor’s Bakery for the meeting. That’s the tradition, for now. Alice called us all in, which is weird. Normally she just uses her handheld for that kind of thing. From context, I think Trice is in on this as well. I don’t know who all will be there.”

  Albert simply walked for a while.

  “That doesn’t sound like something that I would be invited to. Am I there to… get you out after a while? Maybe, demand we go back to Moral and start making things for them?”

  Tiera chuckled a bit.

  “Only if it really goes on too long. Besides, we have Ruel and Kara the Royal Guard working that location for us, already. That, what you did back there, was the right call, in my opinion. Some of those people, not just Farah, were acting spoiled. We were already there to replace almost everything they lost. Asking for more than that is… Greedy. At least I think so. Also, don’t mention the thing with Farah?”

  Albert had heard a little of the special rules that way. Rumors, mainly. He’d never seen a thing like it before, in person.

  “Because you don’t talk about combat rage incidents?”

  “Sure. That, and not the fact that she wasn’t in a combat rage at all. That’s very different. She was just being a pain in the…”

  There was a single curt nod, as they got to a blue door that seemed to have a glass window in it, which didn’t work with the fact that the whole thing was solid stone. That meant there was no surprise when the thing opened and what had been shown wasn’t there at all. That had been an image of people inside the space, eating at glass topped tables, sitting in metal chairs, all in white.

  What was there, in that room, were those chairs, and some of the people sitting in rows were eating, but it was different than it had seemed from the outside. Enough to show that magic was in play. Then, it was the Moon. Magic was always in play. They couldn’t survive there without it.

  Dareg turned as they entered, and waved at them. He was directly next to Tamu and Karina, who was, in turn, next to Alphonse, who was next to a small, very dark-skinned woman and a young man, who was tall and dark skinned, seeming to be about fourteen or so. It could be hard to tell for nobles, since they got so big, so young.

  Most of the people there were ones that Albert had never seen before, at least in person. Attractive individuals, some being large, some small. A few in the middle looked very different, like an incredible vision of a woman, who had pearl white skin. She smiled at him and waved, when she caught him looking at her. Staring, with a, no doubt, vapid expression. He simply blushed and looked away. The whole space left him feeling that way. Except for Dare and Kari. Tamu as well, so he headed toward them, even if there was no chair left for him to sit in, their row, the second one, being filled already.

  Timon, and for some reason, Trice the magic shop woman, were both behind them on that side. The woman stood up, awkwardly, and hugged Albert. Then she patted Tiera on the arm.

  “Good thinking, bringing Mr. Benoist with you. Some of his work of late directly relates to what’s going on. I guess that Orange and I should get to the front and explain this?”

  People, most of them that could hear her, nodded. Not all of them looked pleased to be there. Instead of getting to take her chair, the woman grabbed his hand and pulled, indicating that he needed to go with her, toward the front of the space.

  “This way, Al. Don’t worry, no one here will bite. Not unless you ask, really nicely. Even then… half of them are a bit prudish for that, so you know, take them flowers first.” The words were slightly grumbled, instead of spoken to amuse everyone else. As if meant to reassure him, or honestly give secret information as to how to woo them all.

  It was probably good to know, even if he wasn’t going to be trying for any of them that way. Not any time soon.

  At the front, Alice, a woman he only knew from the communications device, looked at him, then grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. It was a sturdy thing.

  “Al! Good, we need our best people here for this. I’ll go first, then let Trice back me up, so you all know I’m not lying to you. First, just in case anyone missed it, this is Albert Benoist. If you need help with any projects, get with him first. Also expect him to call you up at random and give you orders, if an emergency is taking place. We should have thought of having someone in for that before. Our efficiency as a group has gone up about three hundred percent in the last month, since he started working with us. I’m proposing that as a new rule. Albert calls on you and you’re required to help, in any way he asks.” The woman glared a bit at the audience, though Timon Baker, arguably one of the most important people in all the worlds, stood then.

  “I second that and recommend we take this seriously. He has my vote.”

  Most of the people in the room raised their hands then. Not to ask questions, as if they were in school. It seemed to be a vote. A few didn’t do that, but none of them looked upset about whatever was happening. One of the people with her hand down, who was tall, good looking and a bit bored seeming actually smiled at him and shrugged when she noticed him looking. That didn’t get her paw up into the air however, though she smirked cutely enough. So, with her at least,
the reason seemed to be something other than outright hatred of him.

  Alice grinned.

  “Settled then. Albert Benoist is officially in charge of emergencies for the Ancients as a collective and we’re all required to render any aid he askes for. That’s a lot of power, Al. Don’t abuse it. Too much.”

  She didn’t let him answer, saying he wasn’t worthy of such a position, being only a janitor. It was clear that they were tricking these people into thinking that he was more than that, for some reason. An assembly of important people, even if he didn't know who all of them might be.

  A young man, who was sitting in the last row, next to a woman who looked an awful lot like Countess Thomson, even if it couldn’t be her, since that woman was six seats away, next to Count Thomson and what had to be their sons, stood. The man had a pipe in his hands, though the thing wasn’t lit.

  “What do we call you, Mr. Benoist?”

  “Um… Albert. That or Al? I’m in the Terry system under the name Albert. Just the one name. I look forward to working with all of you? I’ll need a list of names for everyone else, I guess?” Not that he couldn’t just help anyone that got in touch with him. That, being useful, was important. It could be at any rate.

  “Douglas Baker. This is my wife, Laurie Baker. We can do the rest after the presentation here, no doubt.”

  Alice grinned at the man, as if he were being cute, instead of efficient. It seemed almost flirtatious, but she waved him down.

  “Let us work, before playing games, Douglas. Now… I won’t mince words. We have a group of people, a large organization, engaging in slavery. Most of them are ex-Fleet or runaway High Servants, from what we can tell. Not all, of course. We’ve managed to get a few infiltrators into the fringes of their group, so far. We haven’t been able to track them. The thought is that the slaves are being taken to the incoming fleet, to be sold. That means the Forten are involved. Clearly not all of them. They don’t allow that kind of thing any more than most places here do. The Ysidril and Machine People won’t be involved in that kind of thing, due to their natures, so we can narrow things down that way.”

  Albert understood all the words and even what they meant, more or less. The Forten, for instance, were people that had left Earth long ago and come back to help. They weren’t bad people, but were different. They were just a bit taller than Noram commoners, but had strange matching hair and eyes. Silver, green, brown, yellow and Albert had heard tell of red and blue, though he’d never seen either of those for himself. The eyes and hair matched perfectly, which was very distinctive. Only the brown caste could easily blend in with regular humans.

  The same would be true, going the other direction, most likely.

  People with mismatching hair and eyes, who were too tall or dark of skin might be noticed, if they tried to infiltrate or go to talk to the people in that far away location.

  Albert looked at Alice, which got her green eyes trained on him intensely. The lady was good at it too. He wanted to shy away from her, even if they’d gotten along fairly well, so far. Still, if he was faking having a job with these people for some reason, he had to do what he could. Even if it was scary at the moment.

  “We’ve been running messages on their fleets network? They even had people out looking, according to Comp.”

  The slightly golden woman smirked at him.

  “Yah. The issue there is that their fleet ships are vast. We don’t truly have the concept down. Their population is twelve times our own or slightly more. Their world ships, the six largest, are each the size of Earth’s Moon. With hundreds of decks and levels, making the amount of area for each impossible to control, much less check. I’ve been in touch with their leaders on the topic. They didn’t even deny it was possible. They simply agreed to put resources into looking. They… Did not seem hopeful. That means we need to crack this from our end.”

  Almost as if no one else was there, Albert spoke again. Which was insanely stupid of him. Then, someone had to ask the obvious questions. Otherwise people would start to assume they weren’t as smart as they really were.

  “You, we, have people with them? Only on the fringes, though? With the kidnappers, I mean. Otherwise we wouldn’t know they were ex-fleet and High Servants. That… They took vows, so I have to think that they’ll be put to death for being involved, if we can find them. Probably all of them, but the High Servants for certain.”

  She nodded, seeming pleased enough for him to be interrupting her.

  “Right. We have some spies in place. Not close enough to grab anyone that will break this open for us. Not yet. It’s only a matter of time. There’s more, of course. There always is for this kind of thing. I can’t tell you all of it, in case some of you are taken prisoner. The truth amulets are too good at their jobs, when it comes to torture.”

  Trice, the woman who ran the magic shop, nodded several times. Everyone in the room turned to look at her. She had a presence that way. Even if she wasn’t the best-looking woman there that day. The alluring pearl colored one was. Clearly and without question. Even given the fact that most of the others there looked to be made up perfectly, even if it was just a meeting and not a party. Even the men were, in general.

  Trice pulled at her curly near black hair, moving it out of her tan face and gave everyone a hard look. The movement was similar to things he was used to seeing from Serro. Just more serious.

  “About ten percent of the missing have been heading to Barony Pence, as far as we can tell. From there, we think, they’re being sold to various people, for slave labor. Sex slaves as well. Most of those… well, you can hire whores fairly cheaply in most places, so they aren’t being used gently at a guess. By Noram law it would be an act of war for the crown to intervene in any of the individual areas like that. We don’t have a good way into Pence to check the tale out. Our operative followed them in, then went dark, twenty-seven hours later. We have to assume the worst there.”

  Albert thought for a bit, recognizing the name. Instantly and without mental hesitation. It was, rather, kind of central to his entire existence. Him once being crippled by a young Baron Pence wasn’t going to get them into place, of course. The man hadn’t even sent coin along in penance at the time, after all. Not even a note, asking after him. He had to doubt that there was going to be a deep emotional connection there, over his broken back.

  Still, he’d been helping people, when emergencies had taken place, of late.

  “That… Barony Pence is in County Cannor?” He thought that was right, but Tim Baker shook his head and spoke instantly.

  “Next to that, on the edge of County Lewis.”

  Albert made a face, since he was probably about to be yelled at and called a monster. A thing that was true, given what he was thinking at the moment.

  “Could we… fake an emergency there? Then we bring in aid… I don’t know if that would be enough. Especially if their people have been starting the fires and capitalizing on other emergencies. They might not want me there, if that’s the case.”

  Everyone turned to look at him, but only about half of them looked scandalized. Tor was in that collection, though not Timon, or Tiera. They both seemed to be considering things. Possibly his well-earned death, for daring to speak of such insanity.

  Before he could take it back, Douglas, the younger fellow with the pipe, in the back, stood again.

  “It’s mid-summer and that part of the world has been getting a lot of rain already. Unseasonable amounts. We could steer a big storm or two that way, couldn’t we?”

  Tiera snorted and stood to look back at the man.

  “Anything too big will need to come off the ocean, which means being sent right over Cannor first, which has been getting even more rain than Lewis has. I don’t love the idea of hurting regular people over something like this in the first place. I definitely can’t condone involving even more innocent people in our attempt to be clever.”

  Albert, being himself and not a wizard, tried to think for a moment.<
br />
  “Um… Tor, you can hold atmosphere to the ground… could you make a cloud layer that generated rain, right over the targeted area?”

  The tall man, who wasn’t the biggest person in the room, of the thirty or so people there, since Dareg was bigger and Alphonse was that much taller again, didn’t stand.

  “I…” There was a long pause, in which no one spoke. Giving him time to work, it seemed. No one but Albert seemed antsy, even. “You know, it will take a bit of work, and I’ll need satellite imagery, to make sure I hit exactly the right locations, but… Yes? That isn’t even too large of an area. It will take me about a week to set it all up. I don’t want to lose the work on the other projects I have. That… I can start over.” There was a grim look to the man then.

  Trice shook her head.

  “No, a week is good. We have to do this right. We won’t get two chances at it. We need to bring Albert to Pence’s attention. How do we do that? It has to be fairly natural. We can’t just have them invited to the same party at the palace. Barons don’t rate that kind of thing. It would be noticed if we tried anything that heavy handed and obvious. We need something… different.”

  Albert, blushing, took his handheld out. Then, standing back by the counter of the bake shop, which was filled with biscuits, bread and sweets, he found the name of Niles Pence, and tapped it, before he could think to stop himself. Like a sane person.

  This was important and his natural awkwardness was going to show, trying to speak to the man. He answered promptly enough. Almost as if expecting a communication. Probably about something nefarious. Though, just because bad things were taking place near his home, that didn't mean he was involved in them, directly.

  “Good evening! This is Niles Pence.” The man didn’t seem pretentious about his title at least. The room went totally silent then.

  “Good evening! I’m Albert Benoist. Um… This is a bit strained, but it occurred to me that I’ve been holding some hard feelings toward you and wanted to clear the air. I don’t know if you’ll recall me…”