The Seeds of Dissolution

by William C. Tracy

  “That’s ridiculous!” Rilan stood, but her words were subsumed into the growing conversations coursing through the rotunda. More representatives were making the gesture warding against Aridori. Bofan, down a couple seats, shook his head at her and tapped one ear hole. Rilan clenched her fists. Common sense would say the assassin had merely been disguised, rather than a member of a long-dead species, but common sense seemed to be lacking today.

  The System that served the Assembly picked up parts of different arguments, defeated by so many speaking. Rilan heard agreement, disagreement, mutters that the Aridori were attacking, and even a few say the Dissolution was coming again. She rolled her eyes. Shiv’s eyes—was the Assembly made of children and gossipmongers these days?

  Vethis might as well be working for the Most Traditional Servants. He was an ass, but usually his target was the Council. Speaker Humbano was trying to speak again, but the amplification System was picking up too many different conversations to project the old Etanela’s voice. Rilan caught a movement to her left.

  The Effature rose to his feet and cleared his throat. The amplification System took it and echoed it around the Assembly, making it into a vast rolling drumbeat, overwhelming the noise. The Effature rarely spoke in sessions, preferring to let others come to their own conclusions.

  “Speaker Humbano, you have the floor,” he said into the new silence, and sat back in his chair.

  The speaker gave him a creaky bow of thanks, and addressed the Assembly. “Majus Vethis, you say this guard’s perspective proves the Aridori still exists, but is it not easier to assume this man was wearing a disguise to fool others?” Rilan mentally thanked the woman. One did not get to be senior speaker for a species of several billion without a little rationality.

  “That is what some would assume, Speaker,” Vethis said, tugging on one lace-trimmed sleeve. “The woman who told me this wasn’t lying. I have a skill at knowing when people speak the truth. It’s well known. All the time, people compliment me on how I can tell what’s truth—”

  While Vethis babbled on, Rilan saw Ori shoot to his feet, crest rising, in the section reserved for the House of Communication. At the same time, Councilor Freshta was frowning down at a message a runner had brought her, passing it on to Jhina. He must have been waiting to stand until the message got down here.

  Rilan closed her eyes again. Ori, don’t do this, she thought up at him. He had been warned once already, but even more than Vethis, he had never been one to follow rules. When she was younger, that had been something attractive. Now, she could tell he had waited the whole session for the best moment to push his agenda.

  Almost before Jhina gave him permission to speak, Ori was addressing the Assembly.

  “Councilors, speakers, representatives; you are seeing that the threat of the Aridori is a rice paper fiction, not worth your time on the matter.” Mutters of disagreement. “I bring you a far greater threat, truly worth the fright of the Most Traditional Servants.” He nodded toward the Sathssn delegation.

  What are you doing Ori, you arrogant cockatoo? Rilan thought at him furiously. You’re going to cause more panic than that ass Vethis! As with Vethis, any reaction from her would only confirm the suspicions of others. She could shout him down eventually, but it might take longer than keeping quiet.

  “I have personally witnessed an aberration of nature, a Drain of energy that is to be untouchable by even the Grand Symphony itself.” Further side conversations started, and several maji called out for Ori to sit down. Only they would know what an impossible statement Ori made. When Rilan talked of the Grand Symphony to non-maji, she could tell they thought of it a supernatural thing, as powerful and mighty as a force of nature.

  “This was to be the true culprit behind the failure of the Methiemum space capsule. It was nearly killing the entire crew, myself included. These Drains are able to eat away the nature of reality itself—and there is more!” He was shouting now, to make himself heard over the competing conversations and shouts for him to cease. “I have recently saved a fledgling majus from certain death, rescuing him from yet another of these Drains. Forget the Aridori—they are not to be worth your time. Instead we must focus on these aberrations before they destroy the worlds beneath our feet!”

  There was no way to bring the Assembly to order. Rilan shook her head. The Effature came to his feet again, with little effect. So much for a resolution on the Servant’s secession. They would not see the end of this today.

  * * *

  Sam sat up straight, rubbing his face. He pushed the bowl of paste away. “You’ve seen a Drain? How?”

  “Our merchant caravan held our parents, all our cousins, aunts, uncles, and other relations,” Enos said. She curled her hair over an ear and sat back, then put the hand on the table. Inas covered it with his own. “Our last trading run was from TaiRapa, bringing their glazed pottery to Etan. The Etanela will pay high prices for Methiemum mountain-crafted pottery, and we were one of the only caravans to travel that far into the mountain district of Prishna.”

  Enos fell silent, and her brother squeezed her hand. Rey watched, his expressive face like a kicked puppy’s. He must have heard this before, and it’s not a happy story. I shouldn’t have asked.

  “Since TaiRapa is so remote, it does not have ready access to a portal ground,” Inas said. “We had five days’ travel to the nearest town with the services of a majus.” Now he paused, taking in a large breath. “On the third night, my sister and I were tending the System Beasts that pulled our caravan when we heard our family cry out.” He stopped again, and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. His eyes were wet.

  “I remember little of that night,” Enos said, “except the cold, the screams, and the skin of the thing, like a giant boil, sitting half in the ground, half out, consuming everything. We tried to come near enough to help, but the cold was so fierce it kept us away.” Her chin was up, but her mouth trembled.

  Sam reached over, hesitant, then put his hand on top of theirs. They’re not pulling away. A thrill ran through him, despite the topic. He had had a few dates, one with Phillip, a quiet transfer into his school from Arizona, and a couple with Molly, though that hadn’t gone anywhere. His anxiety always held him back. This is not the time.

  Rey was looking up at the fungus awning. “It was a Drain?” Sam asked.

  “I believe so, after what you told me.” Enos sniffed and wiped her nose on fabric napkin. “We did not have a word for it. I would not be here if my brother had not saved me.”

  Sam looked to Inas, taking in his wet eyes, his hair coming out of the knot on top of his head. “How?”

  “We eventually ceased trying to approach the Drain, after it ate most of our caravan. Using some instinct to escape, I created a portal, as you did. It was my first time using my song.” Inas shook his head. “I do not know why the portal opened to the Nether. We had only been here once, when we were very young, to visit the Great Bazaar—it is quite expensive to travel here.”

  Enos added, “Only later did I find out I was also to be a majus.”

  “We have to tell Majus Cyrysi about this when we get back,” Sam told them. Something rose in his chest. Maybe home is not so far. “He’s trying to find out more about the Drains. He saw one too. You can help us stop them.” Now Inas did pull his hand back, and his sister brought hers together, rubbing them nervously. Without their touch, Sam felt a chill on his skin. He pulled his hand into a loose fist, then back to his lap.

  “I am not sure I wish to go back there again,” Enos said, and Inas frowned. Sam looked between the two. He wanted to go back to his home, if only to see what happened. Why didn’t they?

  “All the maji’re bogged away in that big meetin’ today anyway,” Rey said. “Mebbe after, yer can talk to him, if nothin’ worse has happened.”

  Sam let Rey’s question distract him. “What is it about, anyway? The councilor dragged Majus Cyrysi off in a hurry.” None of the others said an
ything. “Who are these Aridori everyone is frightened of? We almost got trapped in a mob chasing one yesterday, but the councilor proved they—” He stared at Rey for a second. “They caught an innocent person,” he finished lamely.

  The reactions were instantaneous. I’ve said the wrong thing, again. Rey’s face could only be described as a sneer, and the siblings both sat bolt upright, faces taut.

  “They are monsters,” Enos said.

  “Nah, those Aridori aren’t but a gaggle o’ stories made up to scare kids to sleep,” Rey said, his voice harsh. Sam watched the siblings, who were both silent. The Sureri followed his glance. “Some more than others.” He waved a thin hand at Inas. “Buck up there. Yer’ve a full belly and we can get back to Majus Caroom’s apartments for a game of Hidden Chaturan.”

  “Not yet,” Inas said. He set his shoulders, his face softening into its usual placidity. “We promised Sam we would get him new clothes, remember?” He dusted his hands off, pushed his empty bowl to the center of the table, then stood up.

  Sam and the others followed. Inas gave him a warm smile. His worry about the Aridori seemed to have dissipated. He’s pretending. He’s still upset. Though that might be Sam overreacting, as usual. He looked to Enos, who, if not as composed, had at least wiped away the look of shock.

  Sam turned at a warm hand on one shoulder, and Inas reached up to grasp his other shoulder, looking him up and down. Sam leaned into the contact. I need someone to ground me—keep me from freaking out. Was Inas simply checking his clothes, or did the touch mean something more? He watched Inas’ lips as he spoke.

  “I would bet you tidy up nicely. Let’s see, shall we? I told you I know a good tailor. My family—” Inas paused, took in a breath. This close, his pain was barely hidden. “My family did a little business with him.” He turned Sam toward the exit, and Sam let himself be directed.

  “Hapt’s place?” Enos asked, and her brother nodded. She eyed Sam again, from his bare knees to his gummy T-shirt, but this time Enos was appraising, as if seeing him wearing something to her taste. Sam resisted the urge to cover himself, and forced his eyes to meet hers. Am I reading them wrong? He raised his head and followed the others out of the Mushroom and Spice. Thinking they—and me—there’s no way. Still, he couldn’t deny his attraction. They were striking, side by side.

  He had opened himself up too much to the others. Thoughts of Aunt Martha dogged him. Memories of the cold numbed his fingers, and he followed the others mechanically, eyes turned inward until a breath of wind tugged at his shirt. Sam froze and realized where he was. There’s no roof overhead. I’m back in the unknown. Lost. Everything’s new.

  “What’s with yer?” Rey asked, as Sam sagged against a wall of cut stone. He held up a hand as claws of ice reached up his spine. No. Not now. He had kept it back all the way here, but now his feet were pinned to the ground, one hand scrambling inside his pocket for his watch. He closed his eyes, trying to catch hold of breathing exercises, to the meditation the majus showed him—anything to make the well of panic go away.

  He jumped when a hand fell on his arm, then recognized Inas’ warmth. He opened his eyes again, keeping his gaze at Inas’ eye level, below his, focusing only on the densely-packed buildings. Enos was close on his other side, and Rey had a confused expression on his hairy face.

  “I’m okay,” he told them. They don’t know about me yet. He took in a deep breath. Better to jump to the explanation.

  “I…I don’t like new places, or crowds,” he said. There were few passersby on the alleyway, though he could see a busier street, through two buildings. “They make me, well, uneasy.” That was a weak word for an anxiety attack.

  “Is that all?” Enos said. She had one hand to her chest. “I thought you were having a reaction to the food. Lobath cuisine doesn’t always sit well with everyone.” Sam frowned at her. Dismissing his anxiety wouldn’t make it go away.

  “Four’s not a big crowd, hey?” Rey asked.

  “How can we help?” Inas’ dark eyes were on Sam’s face. Worry marked his mouth, eyes, and forehead. Sam blinked, swallowed, and almost unconsciously, clasped Inas’ hand, squeezed. He didn’t pull back. He’s really not pulling back.

  “Um. Just stay close, if you don’t mind.” He watched Enos, whose strange half-smile was back. “Both of you.” He looked to Rey as well, nodding his thanks. “Crowds bother me. Friends don’t.” He hadn’t had many friends, but he would have had more if he could. The Sureri tipped an imaginary hat.

  What set me off? Aunt Martha? The city? Both? Whatever it was, he accepted it. It’s alright to be scared. He had to choose what to do. He chose to keep moving.

  “I’m ready.” He took comfort in the other apprentices—no, in his friends—around him. He kept Inas’ warm touch and Enos’ half-smile in his mind. Think of them. Not where you are.

  They turned into a long stone-roofed arcade filled with shops selling expensive-looking merchandise on either side, the stonework reminding him of pictures of buildings in Italy. Sam caught sight of a store selling ladies’ shoes, and his mind went to the shoebox in his room—the sheared off shoe, the half a belt. His parents would have liked it here. He wished he could have shared this with them.

  Enos kept close on one side, her brother on the other. Sam kept a firm grip on his watch. It was another connection to Earth, and a metronome. Rey walked a few paces in front, while other people moved around their group. “We’re almost tae Mid Imperium proper,” he called back.

  On the other side of the arcade, the buildings were even closer, looming overhead in a confusion of styles and stories. Sam relaxed a little. Though unfamiliar, this warren would be easier to handle than the open sky—ceiling?—of High Imperium. Lilting music came from a Methiemum woman with a wooden pipe, sitting at an intersection.

  The streets were barely wide enough for the three of them to walk side by side. Beings brushed past, Kirians, Lobath, Methiemum, tall Etanela, and others, and Sam recoiled inward, hunching his shoulders. The siblings to each side provided a buffer against the attack. A few creatures with long rat tails, scales, and leathery wings scurried past. Rey suddenly pushed a Kirian in a dirty robe away. Sam jumped.

  “Geroff! Filthy beggars.” He turned back, pointing to Sam’s belt. “Yer should nae be wearing such a tasty treat on yer belt, in this part o’ the city. Best to hide it in yer shirt or an inside pocket, or someone may relieve yer of it.”

  Sam’s hand went to the largish pouch, jingling slightly as he moved. He untied the bag and hefted it, trying to figure out where to put it. My T-shirt and shorts don’t have a lot of storage, and it won’t fit in my pocket. He pressed his back to a wall of rough fiber, letting the glint of the clear coins inside distract him from the panic of the crowds. Just a few seconds to get my bearings. His pulse was getting too fast, and pins and needles stabbed his fingers and toes.

  “These are a lot different than the coins back home,” he said. His friends made a wall between him and the rest of the Imperium.

  “They are called Nether glass,” Inas said, “used in the Nether and as official trade in the ten homeworlds.” Sam let Inas’ calming voice wash over him and fend off his anxiety. “They are also used by maji, since a full majus gets paid a stipend by the Assembly. Outside of the Nether, many don’t deal with them directly. Our caravan—” his voice hitched, “—used them as a standard, since they are impossible to counterfeit.”

  “Impossible?” Sam looked up. A distraction. “To counterfeit glass?”

  “They are not actually glass,” Enos said. She was looking around, potentially for others who might steal the purse. “They are made of the same material as the Nether.”

  Sam squinted at the others. Beings passed by them, stuck like barnacles to the alley wall. “Majus Cyrysi told me the material of the Nether was unbreakable.”

  “It is,” Enos said. “That is why the coins cannot be counterfeited.”

  “But…then how are they made?�
� Sam picked up a square coin with a hole in the middle, seeing the cobblestones through the translucent surface.

  “Ah, yer’ve got the gist of it now,” Rey added. “Most don’t pick up on that juicy piece.”

  “It is something guarded by the Council,” Inas said. “They also act as mint for the coins.”

  “I’m get the feeling the Council holds a lot of power,” Sam said. He remembered people watching Majus Cyrysi and Councilor Ayama.

  Rey waggled a hand. “Eyah, there’s a mite o’ anti-majus sentiment at the best of times,” he said. “No one is too pleased they—we—” his face showed surprise for a moment, “—hold the only way to throw open portals between homeworlds.”

  “The maji charge tariffs to travel through a portal,” Enos said, and Sam’s head swiveled to her. His heartbeat was slowing. “It is expensive to travel from homeworld to homeworld, and even more expensive to travel to the Nether. The Assembly’s Guild of Merchant Interests has always been in opposition to the Council of the Maji.” Sam could feel her trembling beside him, and remembered that he was not the only one who had lost family.

  “Our parents would not have been thrilled we were to become maji,” Inas said. His voice stayed steady while he spoke, until the last word, which wavered upward.

  “It’s been worse of late,” Rey said. “Some naughties are getting folks all screwed up about the Council’s power again. Yer can bet something will happen before too long, or I’m a Pixie.”

  “I’m sorry.” Sam shook his head. “I didn’t mean to bring all this up. I just needed a minute to get out of the crowd.” He watched the passing beings as if one would turn and accuse them, then passed the bag of coins to Inas. “Can you carry this somewhere safe for me?”

  “Of course.” Inas smiled back, though his eyes were red. He tucked the bag inside his vest. “Hapt’s shop is not very far.”