The Last Protector

Scrornuck was perplexed. He knew and loved amusement-park rides, but ... “A ride simulator? What the heck is that?"

  "Have a seat,” Jape said, patting a flat-topped stone. “I'll show you.” He formed the softscroll into a rigid semicircle and placed it in front of Scrornuck's face. “Now watch closely and hang on tight."

  The scroll lit up, showing a panorama of sky, ground, and rapid movement, as if Scrornuck were flying. He quickly discovered that by leaning forward, back and to the sides he could guide his virtual airplane through turns, rolls and loops. With a whoop of delight, he “flew” through faster, tighter aerobatics, until he finally lost his balance, fell off the stone and sent the scroll skittering across the gravel. “Wow!” he cried, “I want to do it again!"

  "I don't get it,” Nalia said. She had been kneeling behind Scrornuck, looking over his shoulder with an increasingly puzzled expression. “It was just a picture."

  "What do you mean, just a picture? It was real!"

  "To you,” Jape said. “But not to Nalia, or to me; we just see it as a picture on a screen. A couple hundred years ago, simulators were a big thing in my world. People used them for everything from training to games to virtual tourism. But over the next few generations, people lost the ability to see simulations as real. By the time McGinn worked at UniFlag, ride simulators had been a dead issue for twenty years. It's odd that he was working on one.” He glanced at his watch and stuck the scroll into his cape. “We should be on our way."

  They marched down to the beach, where Jape looked carefully into the distance and pointed to a barely visible boulder on the far side of the ice. “Our gear is by that rock.” He scanned the lake's surface until he spotted an ice-grooming machine a few hundred feet away. “Mister Saughblade, can you mess up the ice a bit?"

  Kicking some pebbles and sand ahead for traction, Scrornuck carefully walked about twenty feet from shore and hacked a few random holes in the ice.

  "That's enough!” Jape called. “Our ride's coming!” Scrornuck followed Jape's pointing arm and saw that the ice-grooming machine was moving purposefully toward him. Jape led Nalia onto the lake and the two danced in circles around the machine, baiting their prey like a pair of bullfighters. The little wheeled box veered and spun, trying to keep away from them, but eventually Nalia got squarely in its path and jammed her short sword into the ice, blocking the machine's movement. As it sat, wheels spinning helplessly, Jape pressed his softscroll against its backside. The scroll stuck in place, and the machine became docile and cooperative.

  "Saddle up,” Jape called, patting the top of the little box.

  Scrornuck plopped himself on top of the machine, being careful to sweep his kilt underneath him before sitting. Even insulated by the kilt, the machine's metal case was freezing. “I hope this thing moves fast,” he said.

  "Fast enough,” Jape said. He and Nalia took hold of the machine and linked arms. “Softscroll, full speed ahead!” he commanded, and the three set off for the far shore at a sedate three miles an hour.

  Ten minutes later, they were there. “Hello, old friend,” Scrornuck said, pulling his armored jacket from the pack and slipping into it. He wrapped his arms around himself, feeling the tape pulling on his wounds, and gave the jacket a big hug. “I am never going anywhere without you again!"

  Jape looked up at the crater wall. “We're not going anywhere, period, until we find another way out of here. You're in no shape to climb this trail."

  "Sure I am,” Scrornuck protested—and promptly tripped over a small rock, falling painfully onto the sand. “Well, maybe not."

  As Jape scanned the cliffs for an alternative way up, Scrornuck found the cooler. There were three beers left. Feeling a thirst that the water taps on the island hadn't satisfied, he opened one and sucked it down in a few big gulps.

  "Let's have a look at this leg,” Nalia said as he opened the second beer. He winced as she yanked off a strip of tape and squirted a fresh load of antiseptic goo into his wounds.

  Jape returned just as Scrornuck opened the third pint. “Isn't it a little early to be hitting the bottle, Mister Saughblade?"

  His thirst finally abating, Scrornuck watched the beer's head settle. “The way things have been going, it's never too early."

  Jape shrugged. “Well, finish that and let's get going. There must be a lake-level exit; there's no way they'd bring Guests down a trail as treacherous as the one we took. We just have to find it."

  Scrornuck hopped briskly to his feet, almost as if he was uninjured.

  "Feeling better?” Jape said.

  "Good as new, almost.” He hoisted the pack with one hand and plopped it into his lap as he took his seat atop the ice-grooming machine.

  "Now that's some beer,” Jape said.

  * * * *

  Pulled by the ice-grooming machine, they went around the island to the lake's far shore. There, they found an enormous statue of Spafu carved from the cliff face. “So we're going in the lizard's mouth,” Scrornuck said as they climbed the steps that led to the Dragon's head. “Does that mean we'll come out his ass?"

  "I hope not,” Jape said. “I don't want to pass through his entire digestive system.” The steps led them between a pair of fangs the height of a man and into the shadows beyond. Just past the thing that dangled from the roof of the Dragon's mouth, they came to a temporary wall. Jape read the notices stapled to the plywood. “Minimum wage rules, overtime pay, vacation, sexual harassment policy.” He touched one of the papers. It crumbled to dust.

  A door hung open, about eight feet square, with fragments of wood around its broken latch. As they stepped through into darkness, Jape held out his hand and a ball of light appeared.

  "All right!" Scrornuck gazed with unconcealed excitement at the neatly parked line of immense yellow earthmovers. “This is our ticket out of here!” He climbed awkwardly into the cockpit of the biggest machine.

  Jape was less excited. “This thing's a hundred years old—what makes you think it'll run?"

  "UniFlag built stuff to last, remember?” Scrornuck reached under the driver's seat, finding a small toolbox and the remains of a T-shirt bearing a construction company's logo and the words Alpine Lake Winter Sports Complex—On Time, Under Budget. “C'mon, let's see if it'll start!"

  Half an hour later, it still hadn't. Scrornuck crouched in the small space next to the earthmover's power plant, twisting yet another length of wire onto the starter. He'd scavenged the wire from one of the other machines and hooked together a dozen energy-storage cells from his boots to create a battery. In theory, the earthmover ought to start, but so far it hadn't even cranked. “Try it now!” he yelled.

  Jape, sitting at the controls, pushed the black button again. “Nothing. Are you sure you can get this thing started?"

  "Just a matter of time,” Scrornuck said, reversing two of the cells and re-twisting a wire.

  "We've got power!” Jape called, as the gauges on the instrument panel suddenly lit up.

  "One second.” Scrornuck made one more adjustment to his makeshift battery. “Hit it!"

  Jape stabbed the button. The engine groaned as it cranked over for the first time in a century. Dust fell from nooks and crannies and a few sparks jumped between wires. Scrornuck felt the energy cells in his hand grow warm, then hot, almost too hot to hold. “Come on,” he whispered, “don't make me walk...” The starter's groan rose in pitch, becoming a hum and then almost a whine. “Fire in the hole!” He pulled on the throttle linkage, and with a sudden roar and a cloud of smoke from its exhaust stack the ancient turbine came to life. After a minute of ominous shaking and a few frightening blasts of flame from the air intakes, the engine settled down to a smooth rumble. “All right! I knew she'd run!” He eased his way forward and elbowed Jape out of the driver's seat. “I get to drive!"

  "Do you know how to operate one of these?"

  "I'll learn!” Scrornuck flipped switches on the control panel until the earthmover's headlights flooded the tunnel with light. He mashed the clutch
and yanked the shift lever, and after a few seconds of awful graunching noises the aged transmission went into gear.

  "Yee-haw!” he shouted as the machine lurched forward, seemingly with a destination of its own in mind. Jape and Nalia held on for dear life as Scrornuck struggled with a steering wheel that kept trying to pull itself out of his hands. After several seconds, a hydraulic pump made an ugly groan, settled down to a smooth whine, and the power steering consented to work.

  At the earthmover's top speed of twenty miles an hour, it took about three minutes to get through the tunnel. The far end was blocked by another wooden wall, with an open door that was ludicrously small compared to the machine. “Are you planning to stop?” Jape shouted, struggling to be heard over the roar of the engine.

  "Haven't figured that out yet!” They ducked behind the dashboard, and in a cloud of dust and splinters the earthmover crashed through the wall into daylight. As he fought to keep the machine on the path, knocking a chunk from a monorail-support tower, Scrornuck looked over his shoulder and called, “Well, did we?"

  "Did we what?” Nalia shouted back.

  "Did we come out the lizard's ass?"

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Twenty

  "Pray for My World"

  "Look at all this stuff,” Scrornuck said, eyeing the well-stocked shelves of the Camp Five Trading Post. They'd followed the line of concrete towers down around the mountain, at one point crashing the earthmover through another locked gate, and reached this small store just in time for dinner. “Where does it all come from?"

  "I told you,” Nalia said. “These things are the Gifts of Spafu."

  "And I told you,” Scrornuck said, “the lizard's just—aha!" Something more important than theology caught his eye. “They've got a shower!” He pointed to a stall in a corner of the store. “And a laundry!” He undid the first buckle of his jacket. “Jape, I need..."

  Jape sniffed and held his nose. “Do you ever.” He reached into his purse, coming up with a handful of copper coins.

  Scrornuck limped outside to the earthmover, returning with the dirty laundry and a change of clothing. He started the washer and ducked into the shower booth, where he quickly undressed and tossed his filthy kilt, shirt and jacket over the partition. “Throw these in the machine, too,” he said, “and if you need me, call."

  Jape laughed. “I can see it now: you come running out of there butt-naked..."

  "Just stay where I can hear you.” Scrornuck shoved a copper piece into the shower's coin slot. The hot water quickly relaxed the sore knots in his back and legs as it sent the grime of the last few days down the drain. He carefully peeled back the tape over a cut in his leg. The wound felt gritty, as if dust had blown into it. He scrubbed harder, ignoring the stinging as the shower sprayed directly into the cut, but no matter what he did he still felt some sort of grit. Giving up with this wound, he tried another, finding the same thing. After more examination, he found that while his wounds were free of infection and appeared to be healing rapidly, they all contained some sort of grit that wouldn't wash out.

  He dried off and wrung the better part of the water from his hair before slipping on his last clean shirt and setting about the task of pleating and donning the great plaid, a task that took several minutes in the tiny stall.

  "Well,” Jape said as Scrornuck stepped out, “at least you smell better."

  "Like a wet dog?"

  "Like my wet dog.” Nalia said, planting a pretty serious kiss.

  Jape rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to complain, but an electronic ping cut him off. “What the...” He glanced at the Traveler hanging from his belt. A yellow light flashed as it made another, more insistent ping. “Would you look at that,” he said softly. “A time-displacer's operating somewhere close by. Something—or somebody—has just arrived from another world."

  "I thought you Rangers were the only ones who did that,” Nalia said.

  "We're supposed to be the only ones doing it.” Jape studied the display and pointed to the back of the store. “This way."

  They hurried to the back of the store, where a burly, round-faced man stood in front of a door that led to the store room. “And where are you going?” he demanded, pointing to the sign that read Employees Only.

  Jape quickly reached into his purse. “Two gold pieces says we're temporary employees."

  The shopkeeper did a double-take and said, “You're hired.” He watched as Jape followed the Traveler's readings through the dingy back room, past boxes of merchandise, sacks of flour, and a small-scale beer-brewing machine. In time they came to a large, stainless-steel cabinet bearing the UniFlag logo, complete with its image of Spafu.

  "Wow.” Jape walked around the side of the cabinet and pointed to small, shiny plaque that identified it as a General Temporatics Model D952 Fixed-Field Temporal Displacer. “I said UniFlag thought big, but this...” He turned to the shopkeeper. “Would you be so kind as to explain to my friends what this does?"

  The shopkeeper scratched his head at the odd request. “Well,” he said, “every morning I tell the Dragon what I'll be needing.” He pointed to a grill on the side of the cabinet. “And in the evening, when the light goes on, I open the door, and the Gifts have arrived.” Since the light was on, he opened the door, exposing several large chunks of refrigerated meat, along with fruits, sacks of flour, and a couple cases of those magical beer bottles, ready to be filled by the brewing machine.

  "The Gifts of Spafu.” Nalia's voice mixed reverence and surprise. “I thought they only arrived at the Temple."

  The shopkeeper laughed and pointed at Scrornuck. “That's why we can serve this guy. We know all about what he did in Taupeaquaah, but we're not dependent on Rosaiah for our supplies. We'll serve anybody we please!"

  Scrornuck stared at the cabinet. “I'm lost."

  "It's the supply system, Mister Saughblade,” Jape said, resting a hand on the cabinet. “UniFlag didn't want their Guests to see farms, factories, trucks running up and down the roads, anything that would dilute the magic. They must have built a whole second world to supply this one. And then they set up these little Travelers to bring stuff in. Magnificent, just magnificent..."

  "If that box goes to another world,” Nalia said, “I want to see it. C'mon, let's go."

  Jape shook his head. “These are cargo models. They aren't designed to carry anything living."

  "That's convenient,” she retorted. “You keep trying to tell me these things aren't the gift of a god at all..."

  "What's this?” the shopkeeper demanded. “Somebody's speaking blasphemy at the Gift Altar?"

  "Uh, no,” Jape said quickly. “Wouldn't dream of it.” He started back toward the public part of the store. “Thanks for showing us. Now let's get some dinner. I'm hungry."

  "You and me both!” Scrornuck agreed.

  They enjoyed a fish dinner with wine at a picnic table next to the earthmover. After dinner, Scrornuck laid his boots on the table and carefully set a dozen new energy cells in a neat row next to them. “Gotta be careful,” he said, noticing Nalia's interest. “These things store a lot of power.” He pointed to a black, scorched area on one boot. “Once I put one in backwards. It shorted out and caught fire.” He pointed to a rough burn-scar about the size of a gold piece on his right leg. “Lucky for me it was almost empty. If it had had a full charge it would have blown my leg off."

  He carefully aligned the new cells, checking their polarity once, twice, three times before slipping them into pockets on the boots. The last cell in place, he slipped the boots on, stood and wiggled his toes. The boots responded by unrolling up around his knees to grip his lower thighs. He did a small test jump, onto the fender of the earthmover. “Long as I'm up here,” he muttered, and climbed back to the engine compartment. His makeshift battery looked pretty sad: several of the cells were bulging and pitted, the result of overloads and arcing. Still, when he touched two wires together he got a fat spark. There was enough juice to start t
he machine at least one more time.

  He dropped from the fender and made a perfect landing next to Nalia. “Good as new,” he said. “All they need now is a little sun."

  "Sun?"

  "These things are magic,” he said, pointing to the blue-black squares that covered much of the boots. “They capture the sunlight, and the cells hold onto it until I want to make a jump. But these are new cells, and they're pretty empty. A few hours of sunshine and they'll be all ready to go."

  * * * *

  As the red and purple of sunset faded to black, the proprietors of the little store and the few travelers who'd be camping this night gathered for small talk by the parked earthmover. Eventually the conversation turned to the situation in Taupeaquaah. “No doubt about it,” one remarked, “things are getting strange. Some folks say it's the end of the world."

  Jape's ears perked up. “What's happening?"

  "Well, first the Perpetual Storm up and ended. Just like that, it was gone. The dust settled in less than an hour, and you'd never believe what was at the middle of it.” He leaned a little closer and whispered, “My throat's getting a little dry.” Scrornuck shoved a beer into the traveler's hand, and he continued. “The dust settles, and there's this big black castle! It's got a tower in the middle, almost as high as City Hall. And when the sun went down last night, there was this weird purple light around the top of the tower.” Scrornuck nodded as Jape's lips formed the word “Orb."

  "Then there were the kidnappings. It was bad enough when the Squatters were disappearing, but last night raiders went through the city and kidnapped close to a hundred people."

  "These raiders,” Jape asked, “what were they wearing?"

  "All black armor—including black helmets that covered their faces. Some people said the armor had an image of the Friendly Dragon pressed into it, and now the priests can't decide if we should fight them or accept them as the second coming of Spafu's Helpers. The Guards can't do squat against them. Rumor says the Guard Captain was kidnapped—nobody's seen her for days. The Mayor's telling everybody to keep calm—not that they're listening—and this morning he announced he's raising an army. He wants at least a thousand men, says they'll attack the castle Friday morning. I don't know about you, but I'm getting away from town for a while..."