External Relations

by Pam Uphoff

  She looked over at him. “Because you chose to. And . . . so did I.”

  “You didn’t have a choice.”

  “Jack . . . I could open a gate and walk away any time.” She looked out the window. “I think about it, sometimes. And after I close these gates . . . that’s what I’m going to do.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  22 Rajab 1408 yp

  Gate City, One World

  "There is a request from Dr. Quail Quicksilver of Disco to meet you at your earliest convenience."

  Izzo paused. "Please tell her I will make myself available, and would she prefer to come here or should I come across?"

  El Zee perked up. “I’m familiar with the area. Ready to go.”

  And beat up Xen Wolfson? Kid, he wouldn’t hardly notice your attempt to protect me. Izzo didn’t say it out loud, and managed to nod his thanks.

  Half an hour later Davi drove them through the Gate and dropped them off in front of Disco. El Zee tried to figure out how to protect him from all sides . . .

  “No. Just walk along behind and to the left of me, eyes roving.”

  “Oh.”

  The doors opened, and Izzo walked in, El Zee trailing, and gawping.

  Close enough.

  A familiar figure trotted down the right-hand stairs.

  "I swear half your reputation is based on the subconscious effect of this building's geometry." Izzo shook hands with her. "And may I say that you had us so very, very fooled. Fourteen years ago." And you still look like you're sixteen.

  "Did we? You investigated us. At the time I was hoping you just had good tastes in glassware."

  "We were investigating some forged ID blanks that were circulating. I hadn't a clue you lot weren't Oners with various odd genetic problems your family was trying to cover up until about half an hour before that assassination attempt. And I do have good tastes in glassware. Unfortunately your vase was tested to destruction, afterwards."

  She chuckled. "I suspected it would be. That's why I stole the horse back.” She glanced at El Zee.

  “The new job comes with a bodyguard. This is Elzy.”

  “Well, I shan't keep you long. I had an interesting request yesterday afternoon. A delegation from Granite Peak of mixed Oners, part Nomads, and the descendants of miners the Oner resistance freed from the Earther's. Every single one of them seventeen or eighteen years of age."

  "Kids?"

  "Kids. They want me to give them an Empty World." Q had, by this time, led him up to her office.

  He made an emphatic pointing gesture to El Zee, who nodded, and stood where indicated, out in the hall.

  Izzo took the chair Q waved him toward. "A pack of kids just walked in and asked for a world?"

  "Yep. They said it would be a part of the One Empire, the citizens would be anyone with Granite Peak antecedents, no matter which group, even pure Earthers and pure Natives. They said they would move, with as many of their age mates as they could persuade, and their parents and grandparents could come too, or just die of old age in battered, ill-starred ghost towns, nursing their grudges and their pride. Their choice."

  Izzo leaned back and thought it out. Started chuckling. "You're going to do it, aren't you?"

  "Yes. It's the first positive action we've seen. But I didn't think I should blind-side you with it."

  "I appreciate the heads up. If you just happen to place your gate in such a way that the Granite Peak authorities are unaware of it . . . it might give the kids enough of a head start and momentum that the Governor couldn't stop them."

  Q grinned. "Director, you're not living up to your reputation for murdering enemies in public. If you're not careful you'll gain a reputation for sneakiness. Would you like me to teach you that goat spell, so you don't have to irritate Nil next time? That's really not a safe pastime."

  "I noticed. He really wasn't warned ahead of time?"

  She shook her head. "Nil grew up in a very dangerous place. He is always prepared to be attacked. He generally responds in kind. That is, if your guards had attacked physically, he'd have chopped them into sushi with his sword. Just as well your boss tried a spell."

  "It was certainly a learning experience for all of us." Izzo thought back to the entire collection of spells in the web and shivered. "We still haven't gotten the power suppression spell off everyone yet. I don't suppose we could negotiate for the handling word?"

  "Umm." She unfocused briefly. Smiled. "Try 'Tolerance' on them. It will help if at the same time you say the word, the person under the spell tries to feel tolerant."

  "Humph. You can't telepath through a Gate, can you?"

  "Not usually. In this case, I asked Xen. He was there and observed the spell net. We've both trained under Nil, and he does not coddle his students. The handle to a Chain spell is one thing we've both learned to notice when attacked. Have you gotten the other spells off? The goat spell is tough, unless you know it."

  "We have broken the goat spell, the paranoia, the panic . . . hmm. You are good at getting people chatting, aren't you. Yes, we broke the stupid, the distraction, the sex change and so forth. The Chain has, so far, baffled us. The totality has terrified us."

  "We're actually quite easy to get along with."

  "Yes. It's convincing the majority of the One of that, that is difficult."

  She grinned suddenly. "Now controlling us, or even getting us to just stick roughly to orders . . . can't be done."

  "How does King Leano deal with that?"

  "He discusses things with us, and makes suggestions. And just tells us to do what we think is best. We . . . value his opinion and political acumen."

  "He's a relative of yours."

  "His older brother General Rufi is my great grandfather, on my mother's mother's side. Analyzing us, Director?"

  "I don't understand why you magicians aren't the rulers."

  "In the past, the highly magical have ruled. At the moment, everyone is a bit magic. So in one way, we do. Just not the very extremely most magical. Nil, who's been on top, says it's mostly paperwork and you can't hardly even murder your worst enemies, so why bother?"

  Izzo snorted. "Why bother, indeed. Your average citizen has about twenty-six percent of the Prophets' genes. You're a world full of Halfers, from our point of view."

  "And like your halfers, many can do low level or subconscious magic. But we're all descended from the American Exiles of the genetically engineered. And we've got that American heritage, even now, fourteen hundred years later. Independent, self reliant, tolerant, egalitarian. Of course, our version of your Prophets living so long has helped maintain that. Especially in the West. Did Ajha publish the Gods' recollected history?"

  "No. It's gotten classified. Everyone had absolute hissy fits over it."

  "Ah well. Romeau says it's nice to finally find out what happened to the Orange Team, the Telies from Number One Kids, Inc. Umm, that's Jason Rombeau, back before he got his brains scrambled."

  "The One is considering all that. Umm, might I know the names of these enterprising, world building, children of ours?"

  "The spokes-child is named Influenza, with most of her support from Oghw and Uvli. Nicknamed Ogg and Evil. Kian and Cherry. Those five are going to be the owners of record, here. Yes, Director?"

  "Oghw? The Governor's son is in on this? One! You are making my job so interesting. I think I'd better go tell the President he's about to gain another . . . hmm, I think I'll call it a Target World, not a Colony. This month. Perhaps you could use another of the Evacuation Worlds? So, legally it’s undeniably a part of the Empire? I’ll check with the President on that.”

  “Oh, that’ll be handy, housing already on site with water wells, sun panels and septic tanks.”

  “And I know just the wildlife expert to put to work on it." Izzo shook his head. "One other question I had . . . bubbles can be carried around, looking like a little metal rod, or a couple of wooden spoons . . . but what about corridors? People can't just . . . carry them around, can they?
Smuggle them places?"

  "Oh dear." Q reached for a sheet of paper and pen. Eight circles, with brief labels. A grabbing motion, and thumb press to each circle. She handed it across the desk to him. "That's what a corridor looks like."

  He studied the paper. Two squares of . . . pictures of the ceiling. As his hand passed over one, his palm was visible through the other. He fished a toothpick out of his pocket, and poked it into the bottom square. It poked out of the top one.

  "Fold it up, stick it into your pocket. Cut it up and pin the corners to whatever size you want." She shrugged. "Short of hiring dimensionally able witches to sit in your customs offices and look for them, I doubt you can control smuggling of the corridors, or smuggling using bubbles. Of course, when the paper disintegrates the corridor probably collapses. I haven’t actually tested it. Much better to stick it on rocks or bits of metal."

  Izzo winced. "And since the, umm, Hors de Combat includes several dimensionally able witches, I can't even hope to limit the supply, can I?"

  "Not a hope. The bags are just so very handy for storing things. The corridors actually worry me more, with the potential to interfere with the commuter corridors." She slid the paper over to him. “Why don’t you have your labs test it, both for stability and for detecting when one’s being carried around?”

  Izzo had Davi stop by the Directorate's barracks. Three of the six remaining chained guards were there. "Tolerance" worked; the other three were summoned in from their duty posts to get theirs removed.

  As they left, an impromptu party for the unchained was springing up.

  El Zee collected his scant belongings from the barracks while they were there. Scoped out the setup and chose a room at the head of the stairs and near the elevators.

  Guess he really is reading up on the job.

  Chapter Nineteen

  25 Rajab 1408 yp

  Gate City, One World

  Mushy felt his fight or flight reflex kick in. It was screaming "Run!" Casual party my ass!

  The room was full of Subdirectors, a few of their Princesses. He, Whipper and a few pretty servants were the only others.

  Subdirector Ebko’s got a pretty posh mansion! Family money, or . . . I suppose the pay’s pretty high at his level.

  "So. You're Izzo's pet errand runners, eh? Hard to believe." Ebko was definitely getting into his space.

  Mushy was much too sensible to object. He turned his eyes away from the man. Seven Subdirectors, five Princesses, and not necessarily as assigned. Wiz is here, and that old one belongs to Dr. Wrla.

  "Old one?" She smiled nastily. Her age showed in the loose skin of her face, the bony spotty hands. Up close she still attracted. Devastated.

  Back off, do something, quick. Say something!

  "May I top off your drink?" Mushy pulled out his flask, unscrewing . . . Stopped at her glare. He looked around, spotted the decanter. "With this no doubt excellent wine?" He squirmed away from them both, and there he was with his flask in hand and the decanter just sitting there . . . He tipped in a bare splash, then hastily pocketed the flask. He turned with the decanter in hand. Filled both their glasses. And then others as well. No doubt it was some symbol of being their servant, or at their service. Is this part of their secret game language? Am I belly up and weeing like a puppy showing submission?

  A real servant showed up and opened another bottle, took the decanter from him.

  Mushy slid away, found Whipper pretty much hiding in the corner.

  "They are going to eat us alive." Whipper hissed. "Princesses shouldn't be in a cabal, like this. They're supposed to stick with their own assignment. Observe, not join. This is Not Good. They won't let us leave alive if they aren't sure of us."

  Across the room, Lwar giggled. Then the old woman grabbed Izfo and kissed him.

  Wait, isn’t she Wrla’s Princess? And he’s not even here.

  "He's mine!" Princess Dee—Deop—stalked up to the other Princess, cheeks flushing.

  "Not for tonight, he's not!"

  Ebko threw his arms around both their shoulders. "Ignore him. Fight over me."

  Mushy spotted Wiz, sipping wine while she watched, wide-eyed. Then she looked around at Idzo. "You look so much like him." She stepped up to him and rubbed herself up and down his front. Definitely caught his attention. She was starting to glow, hell, they all were. The shields were coming down fast.

  Mushy stepped over to the frowning butler. "You might want to send any of your staff that are, err, young, away for a bit."

  The man jumped as if startled, jerked his eyes away from the glowing Princesses. Then he grabbed a girl and aimed her for the kitchen. "Stay out of here!" He turned back and pushed through the crowd of increasingly amorous Oners.

  Mushy grabbed Whipper and hauled him through the kitchen door as well. "If we can get out of here, they will be mad at each other tomorrow, not mad at us."

  Whipper looked down at his wine glass. "You didn't!"

  "Did. C'mon."

  They stumbled around the oversized mansion a bit, peeked in the wrong doorway and fled the full blown orgy, found the front door and started walking.

  "Mushy, just tell me I didn't just see the Subdirector of Granite Peak buggering the Subdirector of Comet Fall Affairs."

  "You didn't. I didn't either. In fact, I don't believe I was even here tonight."

  "Ah. That's the ticket. Didn't see anything."

  ***

  Izzo stopped dead and tried to work out the changed atmosphere of the whole Directorate. It was edgy and angry. But not aimed at him. In the elevator two Princesses ignored each other, with frost building up around them. Literally. They were pulling power. He got out hastily on the third floor.

  In the middle of the reception area, Ikti and Iffi were facing each other, in belligerent stances. They glanced his way and each turned and walked off, away from each other. One reception desk was vacant. At the other, Ikti's Princess Qeez looked disturbed, standing and looking after Ikti.

  Izzo nodded to her. "Things seem a bit tense today, what did I miss?"

  "A party." She scowled. "I missed it, too. I don't like this. He's shutting me out."

  In as much as she very nearly ruled the department from her modest desk, this was a bit alarming.

  "Is the One bothered? I'd hate to start losing people just when I thought they might be coming around."

  She frowned down at him. "I suspect you'll only lose the ones who are most resistant to the New Philosophy."

  "Oh. Crap. That's a nasty thought."

  "Indeed. But their ambitions were all honed on the old philosophy. Perhaps that . . . party . . . will shake them loose from it."

  Izzo nodded. "I hope so. If you think I need to bang some heads and bring some of them down to avoid worse repercussions later, just drop the word."

  Qeez, whom he'd heard called Queens, frowned at him. "I was told you didn't bother being subtle."

  "Tends to go right over my head." He nodded politely and headed back upstairs.

  Ajha was hovering around Kiel's desk, and Izzo waved him into his office.

  "Do you know anything about this party?"

  Ajha's eyebrows rose. "Is that why Ebko is upchucking in the men's lav? Idzo is in the hospital, collapsed after he got home late last night. Serious power drain, but there shouldn't be any long term damage. Lwar and Deop have left for Makkah, to request a ruling on a dispute. I hadn't heard of a party. It must have been a beaut."

  "Two assigned Princesses had a disagreement so bad they're seeking a ruling?" Izzo sat back and stared at the wall. His mind felt as blank as it was. "And my damned painting has gone roving again. Wonder where it will turn up this time? They're running out of potty humor destinations."

  Ajha snickered. "I'll keep my eyes open. And didn't you use to have a rather nice little Baluchistan silk on the floor? I'll update you if I learn anything about this party."

  "Sic the Fiend on the Princesses, perhaps?"

  "Good idea. Give her some competition in the
Bad Girl category." He slipped out.

  Ebko stalked in, glaring at Ajha as they passed. "Your other spy have anything tasty to report?"

  "Idzo's in the hospital, serious power drain. That happen at your party?" Izzo watched Ebko's eyes jerk. Ha. Got him!

  "He seemed fine when he left."

  "Apparently he'll recover. I'll check on him in a bit."

  "Good. That's good." The man looked green. The burst of normalcy that had gotten him this far was ebbing fast. "I, err, Mushy and Whipper, umm."

  Izzo frowned. "At breakfast they said something about leaving the party early. Said it wasn't their kind of scene. I had warned them it was probably part of a play, but they didn't want to offend you." He shrugged. "They aren't terribly bright. But they fetch and carry well."

  "Umm . . . "

  "Perhaps you should go home, or see a medgician. Perhaps both. You look awful." I'm going to have to pin those boys down. Or better yet, send Ajha. They'll talk to him.

  Ebko nodded and staggered off.

  He commed the hospital, which claimed someone was just finishing the paperwork to discharge Idzo.

  Izzo sneered at his inbox and called Davi to bring the car around.

  "No alcohol and eat regularly. Well balanced meals, mind you."

  Idzo was nodding as he finished buttoning his shirt. He looked up, surprised, at the sight of Izzo. His expression shifted toward guilt, then went blank.

  "Thought I'd give you a ride home, Cousin." Izzo put on a grin and tried to radiate good cheer. "I was a bit worried I'd lost a subdirector there. Trying to make me look bad my second month here?"

  Idzo managed a sickly grin. "Why would I do that?"

  Izzo led him solicitously into the lift. He grinned back. "Can't think why, myself. Damn near looked like the Princesses had been told to go for a clean slate there for a bit. Scary thought."

  Idzo made a faint choking sound.

  "I know, ridiculous idea." He ushered the man to the limo. Davi opened the door and helped Idzo into the seat. "We'll get you home and Lwar can take care of you properly."