The Last Protector

by Daniel C. Starr

  "I thought you'd like it better if I proposed."

  "Yeah.” She was silent for a few seconds, as if considering the implications. “So. We're married. That means we could..."

  "Yes?"

  "No,” she said, again laughing. “Not till Saturday night! We may be married under your law, but we aren't under mine!” She gave him a peck on the cheek and a slap on the rear. “I don't need to be a mind reader to know what you're thinking!"

  "No, I'm not!” he protested. But, of course, he was.

  * * * *

  They found Jape waiting for them in the suite, after spending his day making another run for provisions in the skimmer. So far, the Taupeaquaahns had survived the disruption to their supply system, tightening their belts and making better use of leftovers—this last in part because the garbage disposers, on a narrow street east of the Temple platform, were also buried.

  "Well, that's that,” he said, tapping the softscroll proudly. “I heard the Captain's story yesterday, thought things through on the supply run today, and just finished the report a few minutes ago. Care to have a look before I send it?"

  "How long is it?” Nalia asked.

  "Twenty-three pages."

  "Nah,” Scrornuck said. “Just tell us the high points."

  "The executive summary?” Jape said. “All right. You already know most of it: McGinn lived on in the Orb after his body died at the Executive Palace. He fed on the minds of people who were linked with the other Orbs and eventually took the form of a shark. Abe somehow survived the stream crossing on the neo-Nazi world, but his mind was damaged, and eventually Dolph's ambition and desire for revenge took him over. I think he was trying to tell us that when he said the name ‘Abe’ stood for ‘Adolph Brian’ instead of ‘Ansel Brautigan'.

  "So he—or they; it's hard to say when minds are tangled together like that—came to Taupeaquaah, created the character of Lord Draggott, and recruited the Captain by pretending to be the True Guest the city had been waiting for. Draggott planned to grow the Orb to enormous size and create the mother of all stream crossings, and a timequake that would destroy my world. It was all about revenge: Dolph wanted revenge on the Rangers for destroying his Reich, and I think a part of Abe wanted to get even with me for leaving him on STC274. As for McGinn, I don't think he understood anything beyond satisfying the shark's appetite."

  Scrornuck nodded. “I think the hunger was all that was left of him."

  Jape looked at Nalia. “Draggott's fatal mistake was trying to use you to increase the Orb's power even further. You were a lot stronger telepath than Dolph ever was, and each contact with the Orb made you stronger. When you took control of the Orb, the minds of Draggott's slaves gave you the power to destroy him.” He turned to face Scrornuck. “That left McGinn, whom you disposed of, Mister Saughblade."

  "I had some help."

  Jape nodded and made a small correction. “And then, with the two of you on the ground, we were able to transmit to the Orb the instructions it needed to assemble a time displacer and depart before the streams crossed.” He set the scroll down. “Well, that's the story in a nutshell. Any comments?"

  "Hmm.” Nalia bit her lip thoughtfully. “It's close. But I'm not sure we were telling the Orb what to do. When I was retrieving that time theory stuff from your mind, it was asking for specific things. It knew what it needed."

  "Hmm.” Jape stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I have no answer to that.” He made a few small changes to the report. “I guess it had to be pretty intelligent to construct a giant time displacer in under two minutes, starting with nothing but the theory."

  Nalia was silent for the better part of a minute. Then, softly, she said, “I wonder if we'll ever see it again."

  Jape shrugged. “The Rangers visit a lot of time streams. There's always a chance we'll bump into it."

  * * * *

  "One, two, three, now!" Along with forty other workers, Scrornuck grunted and lifted, raising the three-ton steel truss onto their shoulders. Then, on a signal from the crew chief, they slowly walked it off the Temple platform and into the Square. He breathed a sigh of relief when they set the mass of twisted steel down. They'd moved nineteen of the trusses by Wednesday afternoon, leaving eleven still to go. Just might be ready by Saturday, he thought.

  A cheer rose from the direction of the West Gate. Jape was arriving with his daily load of provisions. Deciding this was a good time for a break, Scrornuck wiped the sweat from his forehead and trotted expectantly to the short street west of the Square.

  There, he waited. And waited. Normally, Jape pulled the skimmer into Staging Street within two minutes of the first cheer at the Gate. Today, two minutes passed, then five, then ten, then fifteen.

  Just about the time Scrornuck was getting worried, the skimmer idled around the corner. And this time, Jape wasn't alone; the Captain sat next to him. But the real surprise followed behind: six large wagons, each pulled by two horses and loaded with food and supplies. For a moment, Scrornuck just stared in amazement.

  As Jape brought the skimmer to a halt, the Captain stood, blew her whistle, and began directing the Guards in an orderly distribution of the bounty. Jape, grinning ear-to-ear, climbed down from the skimmer. “Told you the UniFlag folks thought of everything!” he said. “We found a complete equestrian center barely two miles from where the earthmover broke down. Stables, grooms, everything, just waiting for somebody to show up! And the kitchens at Alpine Lake were set up to supply a thousand Cast and Guests, so there was no problem filling the wagons."

  It took only a few minutes for the Guards and Cast to unload the supplies. The drivers then unhitched the horses and led them out to graze in the meadows beyond the West Gate. A small crowd followed, at once entranced and frightened by the huge animals. Scrornuck found himself wondering how the people who maintained the spotless plaza outside the Gate would react when the horses started doing what horses do.

  Jape, meanwhile, had climbed back into the skimmer. “Here,” he said, pointing to a big, wheeled toolbox, “I brought you a present."

  With Jape's help, Scrornuck lifted the box over the skimmer's fender and set it on the street. “What is it?"

  "Plasma torch. I figured you'd need something to cut up those trusses."

  "Yeah.” Scrornuck lifted the lid and looked at the high-tech cutting tool. “I miss Ol’ Red,” he said with a sigh. “He would've chopped this stuff up in no time."

  Jape gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “I'm sorry, Mister Saughblade, I really am.” Inquiries to the archives and the other Rangers had only confirmed that Scrornuck's fibersword was the last of its kind. “This is the next best thing."

  "It'll do the job.” Scrornuck closed the lid and began wheeling the torch toward the stacks of debris in the Square. “Where'd you find it, Alpine Lake?"

  "Um, not exactly."

  "This thing didn't come from Taupeaquaah, did it?” Scrornuck stopped, and pointed an accusing finger. “How the hell can I protect you if you keep jumping off to other worlds without me?"

  Jape shrugged. “I'm only visiting places I know are safe."

  "The last time you said a place was safe, I got poisoned, stabbed and burned up!"

  Jape struggled to suppress a grin. “It was safe enough for me—I just got a little hangover."

  "Shee-ee-yit!" Scrornuck's cry of frustration was loud enough that some workers turned their heads.

  "Would you rather use a hacksaw?"

  Scrornuck muttered an obscenity in Russian and resumed walking. There wasn't much else he could do.

  * * * *

  "His name is John?” Scrornuck asked, as he and Jape hurried through town early Thursday afternoon. “And he's doing baptisms? Don't tell me—"

  "No,” Jape laughed, “he's not that John the Baptist. My connections aren't that good!"

  "Where's he from, then?"

  "Detroit, local year 2107. Unattached, spent some time as a missionary, looking for a challenge, not easily intim
idated by unfamiliar customs or different cultures. And he's willing to stay in Taupeaquaah after he does your wedding."

  "Great!” They turned the corner into Temple Square, and Scrornuck suddenly stopped in his tracks. To his left, a small crowd watched intently as a man in traditional Native American dress chanted and danced. To his right, another small crowd listened to a pair of shaven-headed monks in saffron robes. Over on the far side of the Square, he saw two more small crowds, and while he couldn't see the people at their centers, he thought he heard snippets of Arabic and Hebrew. “What the..."

  Jape smiled innocently. “You said these people have been told what to believe for too long,” he said. “It's time they chose for themselves. So, I brought them choices."

  Scrornuck looked at Jape, and then at the religious buffet that was forming below the steps of the old Temple. This wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind. Then he shrugged, and laughed. “Yeah,” he said, “I guess you can't choose unless you have choices."

  They left the Square and continued at a brisk walk until they reached the banks of the Rio Taupeaquaah, at the far south corner of the city. There, they saw Preacher John, a tall, bearded black man, surrounded by a curious crowd of his own. He'd already begun an animated conversation with the group, answering questions, often grinning, occasionally laughing out loud.

  He spotted Scrornuck instantly, and rushed over to give a hearty handshake. “So you're the one who brought down the Temple?"

  "Just lucky,” Scrornuck insisted.

  "Well, I don't know whether to call you Samson or Elijah,” John laughed. He strode into the dark waters of the Rio Taupeaquaah, stopping when he was about waist deep. “Who's first?” After some nervous glances back and forth, Rosaiah stepped into the water. Preacher John led him through a short liturgy and dunked him in the river. The Captain was next, followed by a few others. Then Nalia stepped into the water, had a short, whispered discussion with John, and walked back up onto the bank.

  "Something wrong?” Scrornuck asked. “You don't have to do this if you're not sure you're ready..."

  She grabbed his hand. “Oh, I'm going to do it,” she said. “But if I'm going in the river, I'm going in the river!" She pulled him up the hill, toward the cliff that rose nearly forty feet above the swirling water. “This is where we used to jump when I was a kid. Ready?"

  He looked down at the river, knowing that in places it wasn't much more than a foot deep. “Are you sure?"

  "Like you said, it's a leap of faith. Close your eyes and count to three.” On the count of two she jumped, pulling him along. They hit with a great splash, landing in water that was more than deep enough. Laughing and splashing, they floated down to meet Preacher John.

  * * * *

  "What am I supposed to say?” Rosaiah asked nervously. The last of the debris had been removed from the small street on the west side of the Temple site late Friday afternoon. Now, a few minutes before sunset, the former High Priest stood before an ornate, dented metal grill, holding a long, long shopping list. “How do I pray for our needs?"

  "This isn't a...” Scrornuck began.

  Jape interrupted. “The supply system is addressed as a servant.” He inserted a small tool into an opening on the grille. “Allow me to demonstrate: supply system, attention!"

  A flat, mechanical voice replied: “SUPPLY SYSTEM READY. STATE REQUEST."

  Jape pointed to the grille. “Now, tell it what you want to see in the morning."

  Rosaiah looked into the grille and hesitantly recited the regular daily needs. After each request, the mechanical voice replied “ORDER ACCEPTED,” and with each acknowledgment, Rosaiah's voice grew more relaxed and confident. Soon he was rattling off the long list of food, drink and such that would be needed for the wedding, and with that Scrornuck and Jape departed.

  "Well, that seems to be working,” Jape said as they crossed the Square.

  "I'm surprised it didn't speak in the lizard's voice."

  With a sly grin, Jape held up a tool that looked like an overly complex screwdriver. “The voices are just data. Push the reset button and poof, they're gone."

  "Well, thanks,” Scrornuck said. “I don't think we need a Spafuist revival.” He turned to watch the workers. The last of the Temple debris had been cleared away, the grand stairs now rose to a block-wide platform, and on that platform workers were erecting a tent-like canopy for the wedding and the party that would follow. “I've got enough to worry about."

  "Getting the pre-wedding jitters?"

  "It just feels strange that she's gone tonight.” In keeping with Taupeaquaahn traditions, Nalia was spending the last night before her wedding in her old Cast Quarter apartment with the bridesmaids.

  Jape shrugged. “When did wedding customs ever make sense?"

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Thirty

  "You Can Kiss Her If You Want"

  I've slain dragons and indestructible monsters, Scrornuck thought, as he stood on the balcony and gazed across the Guest Quarter rooftops to the wedding pavilion in Temple Square. I've saved the world a dozen times, returned from the place of the dead and even been a giant butterfly. All I've got to do is walk over and exchange some vows with the woman I love. He looked at the colorful banners atop the pavilion, fluttering in the morning breeze, and asked himself, why am I so nervous? He strolled back into the suite, feeling like that enormous butterfly was flapping its wings in his stomach. And where was Jape, anyway? The Ranger had again vanished, leaving only a cryptic note promising he'd be back in plenty of time.

  Though the ceremony wasn't scheduled until nearly sunset, Scrornuck put on his wedding outfit and inspected himself in the full-length mirror. Not bad, he thought. The tailor had kept his promise. Above a new, brilliant red combat-style kilt, he wore a white shirt with a long, lace-up collar, and over his shoulders draped the crowning touch—his family plaid, cleaned, pinned and stitched so that it ran diagonally across his chest as a sort of sash, held in place with the old dragon-head brooch, and then flared out at the shoulders into a grand cape. It was an outfit suitable for a king—except for the footwear. The jumping-jack boots had been destroyed with the Temple, and the Taupeaquaahn shoemakers hadn't been able to fit his big feet, so he wore a pair of awkwardly-enlarged sandals. Even the tailor admitted they were the weakest part of the ensemble.

  A messenger arrived, bearing a package from Jape. Scrornuck found a note affixed to the box:

  S,

  Cleo worked overtime to make these (you should recognize the material). I figured you'd want a souvenir. See you at the wedding!

  —J

  The package contained the second-most-magnificent pair of boots Scrornuck had ever seen: knee-high, fringed, made of beautiful, red-and-yellow, flame-patterned leather cut from the wings of the dragon he'd slain at Alpine Lake. Aw, Jape, he thought, you shouldn't have. But I'm glad you did. They fit perfectly, and as he looked in the mirror, he grinned—the boots were the perfect finishing touch.

  He laid his wedding outfit neatly on the suite's couch, and headed down to the pool. There he passed the remainder of the morning and early afternoon, enjoying the sunshine, taking a dip, eating a lavish lunch, drinking a few beers, playing a few songs on his pipes and searching his prayer book for advice about marriage.

  As the shadows lengthened, he returned to the suite and put on his wedding outfit, carefully arranging each pleat of the kilt and cape. He frowned as he strapped on his sword—the short, curved Taupeaquaahn blade looked like a toothpick on him, and the local smiths had tried without success to forge a longer sword. Jape believed he could obtain another of the glorious silver swords that he'd given to Scrornuck while disguised as the Master, but so far he hadn't delivered.

  Speaking of Jape, the Ranger was still nowhere to be seen, and Scrornuck found this worrisome. Still, the note had said see you at the wedding, so he set off for the Square, hoping to meet Jape there.

  At the Square, he found no sign of Jape or Nalia—only Pre
acher John, who directed him to an inconspicuous corner of the pavilion and left him to wait.

  "Well, you're certainly looking fancy.” The voice behind Scrornuck spoke not in the common tongue but in the melodious speech of his homeland. He turned, and his father grabbed him in a great bear hug. “You didn't think I'd miss my only son's wedding, did you?” They talked for a while, Scrornuck telling tales of his more recent adventures, his father describing the goings-on in their village and marveling at this great white city.

  When John returned to say it was time, Scrornuck's father put a hand on his son's shoulder and said, “Wait.” He pointed to Scrornuck's short Taupeaquaahn sword. “No son of mine's going to his wedding with a little sticker like that!” He held out a long, beautifully worked black leather sheath containing the old family sword, the one Scrornuck had sliced in half. It was now re-made, polished to a brilliant shine and engraved along its length with an intricate pattern of entwined serpents. Slowly, almost reverently, Scrornuck buckled the belt around his waist. The old man beamed. “Now, my son, you're ready to be wed."

  With his father on one side and Preacher John on the other, Scrornuck stepped onto the old Temple porch. The Square was packed, and the porch was carrying its share of city dignitaries, including the Mayor himself. Only Nalia and Jape were still missing.

  Announced by a blare of trumpets, a great parade stepped out from Staging Street. Floats, bands, dancers, jugglers, tumblers, all performed as the parade slowly moved past City Hall and around the Square. Atop the final float, the one that had once carried Rosaiah to the Temple, stood Nalia. And I thought I knew how to make an entrance, Scrornuck thought.

  The float came to a halt directly before the porch, and an elite group of Mayoral Guards, in their finest formal uniforms, extended a gangplank. Slowly and regally, Nalia walked across, the long train of her white gown held by her many attendants.

  Preacher John elbowed Scrornuck gently. “Nervous?"

  Scrornuck nodded. “I wish Jape were here."

  John smiled. “Don't worry. Things will work out."