by Peter Hartz
The next being through was the first of the Elven Guard, and he put his left hand out on Karonashkk’s lower back and pushed him forward and to the side, causing the temporarily stunned Minotaur to stumble and nearly fall to one knee as the unexpected pressure caught him by surprise.
Always in good spirits, the massive red-skinned being with long hair laughed out loud as he straightened back up, and walked forward to the railing that kept people from falling from the third story into the rides and games of the amusement park below, his sandaled feet slapping on the cool tile floor. His eyes were wide as he tried to take in the expanse of the inside of the building, then turned back to watch people exit the gate his good friend Giltreas had opened.
People around the strange party reacted differently to the appearance of the Minotaur. Adults clutched their children to them tighter and gathered up their things carefully and quietly in preparation to move away to a safer vantage point, or to exit the area entirely, depending on whether their reaction was curiosity or outright fear.
Officer Connor Brenton of the Bloomington Police Department was standing off to the side of the food court as he monitored the area for problems. He enjoyed being at the Mall of America. It was a chance to walk for exercise, and interact personally with people, instead of being seated in a police cruiser his entire shift, never being up on his feet except when he was out responding to a call, handing out tickets, or on lunch break.
He was some fifty feet away from the center of the eating area, when his head snapped had to his right as the first sounds of distress reached him, automatically assuming some wanna-be gang members were causing trouble again. But when he finished his turn, he gawked at the gate, already reaching for the radio mic connected to the right shoulder lapel of his deep blue uniform shirt as he tentatively stepped towards the thing, whatever it was, that seemed to have appeared from out of nowhere in the middle of his shift.
“Unit 4814, dispatch.”
“Go ahead, 4814.”
“There is a disturbance in the food court. Not sure what it is. I am going to need some…” Just then, the first human stepped through the gate, and walked forward before turning around and looking back at the next people to exit the gate.
“There are several people coming out of some kind of shiny, glowing thing suspended in midair in the eating area of the food court. Not sure how – OH MY GOD! What is that!?!?”
“Send backup. Some kind of... ahh… I think it’s a Minotaur just stepped out of whatever it is that these people are using to get here.” Officer Brenton put his hand on his weapon as he started forward carefully as the radio started up again.
“What are you… Holy crap. Where did that come from? How did it get here?” The voice must be looking at the security camera imagery, Brenton thought. Then the massive form stumbled as a… what the heck? Green skin and pointy ears? What is this, a geek convention?
“Additional units, disturbance in the food court. 4814, do you anticipate trouble – wow, they just keep coming out of that thing. We are also getting starting to get 911 calls, and the mall security line is also taking calls. What is happening over there?”
“I am not sure. We need to get this situation assessed and under control before people begin to panic. I am going to need manpower to start get people out of this area, and we need to figure out what to do with these…” He paused as the guards took up a position around the gate, staffs held at their right side as they stood attentively watching the crowds. They had never seen such a massive building before, but they had a job to do, rather than stand around and ‘gawk at the dragon’.
The dwarven engineer and the dwarven mage made their entrance, followed by the Seneschal to the Throne. Next, the Elven Queen made her appearance, followed by Giltreas, then finally Anaradelle. Giltreas turned back to the gate, and waved a hand at it, cancelling the spell and causing it to disappear.
Delara gasped as the immensity of the building they were inside suddenly registered. The view over the amusement park was incredible, the ceiling stretched above them a great distance, and the loud sounds from the park and the people shopping pressed in on her.
Anaradelle was likewise nearly overwhelmed by what these humans had built. It was truly amazing, a part of her reflected as she looked upon the peoples around her. As she looked them over, she realized that she would not be able to “see” everyone around her from her vantage point on the floor, and cast a flight spell upon herself that lifted her off gracefully from the floor.
She drifted slowly up into the open air above the food court, then out slightly over the edge of the railing, floating up higher as she went. A glow came from her eyes and from her robes, bright and tangible as it obscured her upper face and body, and she turned left and right to view the human mortals around her.
Then Anaradelle spoke directly into the minds of every mortal on this world, and her voice was as loud as thunder, yet gentle as a light breeze. Everyone awake on the planet suddenly stopped still and listened, as the voice of the Mid-God came to them wherever they were at the time.
“I am Anaradelle, Goddess of Children, Fertility, and Nature. I resume my rightful place as arbiter of all things on this plane for which I am Deus.”
The words rolled through everyone’s mind everywhere across the entire world. Those who were sleeping at the time would later remember it upon waking. Those who were awake were startled, causing them to jolt upright, or stumble while walking, or physically respond in some startled way. Many people, but not all, who saw their own sudden response to the unexpected event in others began to talk to each other, asking if they heard the same thing. Conversations began all over the world, arguments ensued, and through it all, the strange event produced disagreement as to what happened, and what it meant. No one doubted that the words were spoken. But there was plenty of room to interpret what the sentences meant, and, humans being humans, there was an enormous amount of space between points of view.
People in the food court, both customers and employees of the nearby fast food shops, reacted differently to what was happening. Either they were curious about what was happening, or they were fearful. And of the ones whose first reaction was fear, many opted to call for help.
Emergency dispatchers that answered 911 calls for Bloomington first thought there was some kind of prank happening, as they began to receive calls from people on mobile phones saying that there was something strange happening at the Mall of America. But as the phone lines began to light up with more and more calls, some of them sounding almost panicked and fearful, within five minutes it became obvious that whatever was happening was no prank.
The operators were suddenly overwhelmed with calls, and as the call volume escalated, with each one more unreal than the last. After the initial calls about some strange glowing thing, the calls moved on to a huge red man with a bull’s head, to elves, to a glowing woman who was floating in mid-air.
Then the words spoken by Anaradelle crashed through their minds, and a sense of unease swept over the dispatchers. Something was happening, and they were in a position to do something about it. The supervisor started a whiteboard tally of the calls, and when each one came in, he put another mark on the board.
When a known event is witnessed by a high number of people who place many calls, the dispatchers are told to take the report as quickly as possible and clear the line, while assuring the callers that the situation was known and being responded to. The callers were not as sure that something like this could be handled effectively, however. Still, the dispatchers started responding to the calls with, “Are you calling about the Mall of America food court incident? Police are responding. Please move to a safe area, or better yet, please leave the mall and let the police and mall security handle the situation. Thank you.”
Likewise, some of the employees of the nearby food shops also called the emergency number that reached the mall’s in-house security department, and they began to respond as well, moving first one, then a few of their ne
arby personnel to the food court to assess what was happening (and to evaluate the sanity of those first callers), while not uncovering the rest of the mall. This would prevent opportunistic crimes committed by people aware enough to know something was going on, while having a larcenous bent to their warped character to take advantage of the situation.
As the calls continued to mount to both the mall security phone number and the 911 dispatch center, higher level employees in both locations reached out to each other smoothly, following the training and planning that had been put in place to respond to significant criminal or even terrorist events. Coordination began with the intent of maximizing the response needed to protect the people and the property there.
David and Allison shook their heads suddenly. The statement from Anaradelle directly to their minds finally caused enough stimuli to their brains that they were able to shake off the spell Anaradelle cast on them back at MDST’s downtown office. They both realized that she had manipulated them to bring her here so she could resume her role. David looked at Anaradelle as she lowered back to the floor, and realized what had happened a moment before Allison did, but she was almost as quick.
Anger was plain on his face as he approached the ancient Goddess.
“What did you do to Allison and I? Why did you think you have the right to do that to us?”
Anaradelle was taken aback as she contemplated the angry human mortal in front of her before she glared back and spoke up.
“You have no right to upbraid me in this manner, mortal. I am a Goddess! I will not be spoken to as a mewling child!”
David thought about it for a moment before turning away. He would deal with that later, when he was less angry. As he looked around, he noticed that there were a few police officers present, along with the mall’s security officers. Most of them seemed to be involved in moving the shoppers away from the new arrivals, especially the Minotaur, but certainly, the Goddess and the elves were suddenly finding themselves in a more deserted area. One officer had been directing the police and security guards, then looked over at David as he stepped towards them slowly and carefully, his hands in the clear as he closed up the distance slightly.
“Officer, what can I do for you?” David’s question came out friendly and calm, hoping to keep the man’s nerves from getting the best of him.
“What is going on here? Who are these people? And what is that?” The officer, a sergeant and Officer Brenton’s superior, pointed at Karonashkk where he stood attentively behind Delara, the one he was charged with protecting with his entire, formidable skills and abilities, and life, if necessary.
“The Elven woman with the tiara on her head is Delara, the Queen of the Elven Throne. The tall one behind her with the horns and red skin in the kilt is Karonashkk, her chief body guard when she is travelling away from her home city. The six elves with the staffs are her Royal Guard. The man with grey hair and skin, and amber-colored eyes is Giltreas. The elven royal at her other shoulder is her Seneschal. The dwarf on the left is an engineer, Gherratt, who wished to see the buildings and places Giltreas was describing to them. The dwarf in the robe is Yintarin, a mage.”
The sergeant looked at David as if he was criminally insane, but the presence of the huge Minotaur said otherwise. He realized that if it were true, and the woman really was an Elven Queen from wherever, he was way out of his league, and really needed to get someone else here who was more qualified to speak with her. He glanced around to evaluate the progress of the personnel attempting to empty the food court area, and noted that some people were not moving much, either to stay and watch what was going on, or because they didn’t want to leave their tables. He started to reach for his radio, when his eyes widened as he looked behind David. David glanced over his shoulder at the sound of approaching footsteps, hoping inside it was not Anaradelle.
“David, will you please introduce me to these honorable men? It is important that I speak with them, if nothing more than to put their minds at ease about us.”
“Certainly, your Majesty.” He looked at the insignias on the on the man’s uniform, then spoke up.
“Sergeant…?”
“Sergeant Andrew Bradenton of the Bloomington Police Department,” the man spoke formally.
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sergeant Bradenton. I am David Wilhelm,” David said, then turned and gestured with equal formality to the queen standing beside him, “I present to you Delara, Queen of the Elven Throne. Your Majesty, I present to you Sergeant Andrew Bradenton of the Bloomington Police Department.”
Sergeant Bradenton had picked up some basic instruction in how to interact with foreign heads of state over the years, because of the Mall of America itself was an international destination that attracted people from just about every strata of every society. But the good sergeant had never expected to be called upon in a situation like this, and he was very nervous. The ramifications of messing up something like this went beyond thinking. Then there was also the little matter of the “bodyguard” standing watchfully over the queen’s shoulder. But he decided to give it his best effort.
“Your Majesty, I am honored to meet you.” A respectful half-bow went with the simple statement, and the queen smiled at him.
“And I am honored to meet you as well, Sergeant Andrew Bradenton of the Bloomington Police Department.” The queen held out her right hand, palm down, and when he took it, she gracefully directed his hand until her left hand was tucked under the crook of his elbow, with her right resting easily on top of that. She then drew him in to a walk away from the amusement park, to where the noise was somewhat lower. More police officers and security guards had arrived and were directing people away from the group, clearing the path in front of them as they left the food court and moved towards the main hallway. The queen’s guards followed along as well, forming an outer circle that watched the crowds carefully for anyone that might be intent on harming their queen.
The queen spoke up when they got to an area that was quieter than the food court.
“I apologize for not sending word ahead that I would be visiting here. Unfortunately, the Elven Throne has not had emissaries to this plane in thousands of your years, not since the years my grandmother was on the throne, so there was no knowledge with which to avail ourselves for that purpose. I understand if you feel you are not the right person for me to be having this conversation with, and wish to summon others to meet here with me.” The tone of voice was gentle and graceful, and Sergeant Bradenton looked over at the Queen with whom he was walking.
“Your Majesty, I am certainly not senior enough to be here as the first point of contact with you. I wish to summon the mayor and the chief of police for the city, and they will know much more about how to receive you properly, as well as make contact the right people at the national level who are supposed to be doing this. I do have a question, however, if I may be so impolite?”
“Certainly ask your question, good Sergeant. I will not think it rude of you.”
“The woman in white who was floating in the air back there? Who is she?” He tried, and wasn’t sure he succeeded, to keep the plaintive tone out of his voice.
“She is Anaradelle. She is a Mid-Goddess, as old as the Higher Races, it is believed.”
“Ah. Ok.” The answer would require some processing, he decided. “If you will forgive me? I must make a call.” He bowed to her, then stepped away, pulling out his cell phone. This was certainly NOT something he wanted to put out on the police radio, especially with all the people with apps on their smart phones listening to everything that was said on those frequencies. Besides, he wasn’t sure the person he was calling would be listening to the radio, but he absolutely would have his cell phone on him.
◆◆◆
Anaradelle walked around the food court, looking at the amazing sights that were all around her. Since her pronouncement and formal resumption of her position in this plane’s pantheon of Gods, she felt the presence of every human around her, and,
distantly as if in the back of her mind, the presence of every human mortal alive on the planet. She saw the stares and looks from the people around her even as the men and women tried to move them away from her and everyone else that had come through the gate together. Some looked upon her in fear, many in awe, all with confusion on their faces or in their minds.
Many of those that had not been moved away yet, or refused to move, held up those “smart phones,” as she had learned from Allison Wilhelm, towards her, obviously recording her movements for them to remember her by. She simply nodded to them as she passed them, continuing on without a word.
Something else she saw in the faces around her gave her pause. There were peoples from nearly every human tribe she could think of in this place. That never happened on the other planes where she held sway. Tribes kept to themselves. They rarely ever travelled outside their tribal areas, and because of that, mating between them almost never occurred. But here, she saw evidence of mixing of the tribes nearly everywhere. There was not a single face that was not the product of at least two different tribes of humanity, and some had so much mixed parentage in their faces and bodies that it was a challenge for her to identify them all.
Not that she minded one bit. She always felt the human mortals were so childish in how they kept to their own tribes, rarely joining with those outside of those they lived with. Differences were good, exotic, and challenging to the senses; when those differences were in the ones that one chose with which to spend the pleasures of the body, brought new experiences as well that were to be cherished. Then her eyes focused on one man, an older one, with darker skin and black hair that she was easily able to identify as from the Arabian tribe. He was speaking harshly at a younger woman of childbearing age who was holding the hand of a young man that, to Anaradelle’s eyes, seemed to be the son of the older man.