Pathspace: The Space of Paths

by Matthew Kennedy

  Moonlight glinted off the stumps of ancient tech. Jeffrey gazed at the sheared-off ends and fancied he could even see the difference in reflectivity that marked the transition between the nonferrous alloy waterproofing layer on the outside and the ferro-graphene superconducting core within each rail. How long had it been, he wondered, since the tube trains had floated over these rails, the ridge on the underside of each train nestled between the rails like the keel of a sailboat knifing through water. How long, since mysterious forces had made the silent trains float and fly in buried tubes of vacuum, rushing through airless miles from city to city?

  And now the tunnels were beached and buried, and only messages glided through the waveguide rails, Morse code in stuttering staccato pecked out by the feeble woodpecker descendants of those who had crafted the ancient marvels. Fallen from glory, and making do with the rubble of ages long gone, we eke out our fortunes from incomprehensible ruins.

  Well, the message was sent. It was up to his father now. He dropped the two pieces of metal he had been holding and looked up at the stars. Why did you do it to us? Did you even know what was going to happen, or is the comedy of errors we all suffer through not limited to the surfaces of planets? Is this even now happening on millions, billions of other worlds?

  The sound of horses approaching pulled him back to Earth. He straightened up as the others rode into view. “Fancy meeting you all here.”

  Brutus swung down off his horse. “Where's your mount?”

  “I had to leave it a mile back,” he said. I'm afraid I used up the poor thing. I was worried I'd miss rendezvous with the rest of you if I let it walk all the way here, since you had a head start. I barely got here ahead of you as it was.”

  Brutus regarded him. “Funny, we didn't see you.”

  “I must have passed you a few miles ago while you were resting the horses,” he said. “You must have pulled them off the main road to avoid patrols.”

  Brutus glanced around the site. “Have you seen the regular bangers?”

  “No,” said Jeffrey. “The nights are getting cold. I guess they only come out here during the days during winter. Looks like you'll have to do your own banging.”

  Brutus reached down and picked up the long piece of metal and laid it across the rails. Then he picked up the shorter bar.

  “How do you know they're even listening, this late?”

  “Because we didn't report in on time,” the commander grunted. “So they'll be worried, unless I'm mistaken. By now your daddy will have Quintus listening around the clock. He'd better, because we need fresh horses.”

  Jeffrey sat and waited by Brutus banged out the message, hammering the shorter bar on the one touching the two rails to use both waveguides.

  When the older man had finished, Jeffrey stood. “It's about time to let the girl go now,” he said. “Your horses are tired but she doesn't have to hurry back.”

  Brutus dropped the bars and dusted off his gloves. “Let her go? Why should I do that?”

  “Because you promised to.”

  Brutus laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. “Got that wrong,” he remarked. “I didn't promise anything. You did. Your word doesn't bind me. I'm the commanding officer, and I'm thinking it might be real handy to have the Governor's daughter in Dallas. She could send a nice letter to her ma telling her how things are going to be.”

  “Kidnapping a ruler's daughter is an act of war.”

  Brutus laughed harder. “So? We're rolling on them just as soon as we've got the fuel. You know it and I know it. It doesn't matter how the war starts, as long as we finish it.”

  “Last I heard, we're not ready yet, so let her go.”

  Brutus's eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to give me orders, boy? I'll tell you exactly once not to bother. The little lady's going to Dallas, unless anybody else feels like trying to throw their weight around.”

  Thok! Brutus looked surprised for a second. Then he crumpled to the ground.

  Xander and Lester stepped out of the shadows. “I feel like it,” said Xander. He pointed the business end of his staff at the group of them. “Anybody else want to take a nap? Because I've got plenty of rocks for the rest of you.”

  There were no takers.

  It was only the work of a minute to put Aria on a horse and point her up the road toward Denver. “What about you two?” she asked.

  “Oh, we'll wait for reinforcements,” Xander told her. “As soon as you reach the pickets, send some men back to collect these gentlemen. And a couple of extra horses for us.”

  She looked at Jeffrey. “At least you tried to keep your word.”

  He shrugged. “Tried is not the same as did. But I'm glad you're going home. You'd best get to it before more of my countrymen show up.”

  She turned her horse and urged it into a trot.

  “How did you get here so fast?” Jeffrey asked the wizard.

  Xander grinned. “You have your secrets, and so do we.” He glanced at the ends of the maglev rails. “Actually, we caught up to you miles back. I was just curious about where you were headed. That's a trick I hadn't thought of, using the old rails to send telegrams. Who came up with that one?”

  Jeffrey sat down next to Brutus's inert form. “You know very well I can't discuss such things,” he said. He bent over and listened to the unconscious man's breathing. “Why didn't you just kill him? It would've saved the Governor another execution.”

  “Because I'm not an assassin,” said Xander. “If he'd been pointing a crossbow at me and about to pull the trigger, maybe I'd have acted differently. As it was, I used just enough velocity to give him forty winks and bad headache later. Now let's all sit down and wait for the reinforcements. I'm pretty sure the first ones to get here will be from Rado, since it's closer.”

  “But she's riding an already tired horse,” Jeffrey pointed out.

  “True enough,” said Xander. “But she doesn't have to make it all the way back Just as far as the nearest outpost. In fact – “

  He stopped in the middle of a sentence and looked down. Jeffrey followed his gaze and say an arrow protruding from the wizard's chest. Xander opened his mouth again, but nothing emerged. Wordlessly, he collapsed, nearly landing on top of Brutus.

  A man in the blue and red of the Lone Star Empire carrying two crossbows, one discharged, glided out of the dark. “In fact,” he said, “my tent was a lot closer. Who could sleep with all that banging going on? I had to come check, since I'm the only one who's supposed to be banging here.” He nudged the wizard's body with his boot. “One less idiot to worry about. Who was he?”

  Lester swallowed. His eyes were watering, probably from the cold. “ A better man than you,” he said. “He never would have shot you in the back.”

  The banger observed Lester's general lack of a uniform and swung his remaining crossbow in the boy's direction. “You were with him, weren't you? Unless you want to join the old coot, best keep still. Who's got a rope?”

  There being no rope, the men had to rip a bit off the end of a horse blanket to tie Lester up. “You won't get away,” he told them. There'll be men from Rado heading down here any time now.”

  The banger, whose name turned out to be Danforth, just laughed. “Their horses may be tired, but I'm betting the ones dashing up here won't be. From what these men say, the lady they let go won't be hurrying, since she thinks your dead friend has the situation under control. I'll bet that you'll meet the Texas rescue before the Rado posse even gets underway.”

  Brutus groaned.

  “Might as well put him on someone's horse, and get while the getting's good.” said Danforth. “I know I will.” He melted back into the shadows and was gone before anyone could reply.

  “Looks like you're coming with us,” said Jeffrey.

  “I hope the Texas food is as good as what we give prisoners in Rado.”

  “I wouldn't know,” said Jeffrey. “We weren't even there long enough to get fed. And thanks for reminding me how hungry I am.”

>   “Gentlemen,” said Ludlow. “We can discuss comparative cuisine later.”

  Chapter 41

  Xander: “A hard time we had of it.”

  The sun was burning out of the east when the group of riders arrived at the ruined hillside. Their leader dismounted and examined the rail ends protruding from the scree. “Just as she described it,” he remarked. “I think the girl would make a good scout someday, if she wasn't going to be the next Governor.”

  The other riders spread out to look for ambushers. “Lieutenant,” one of them said, leaning down a little, why do you think we haven't seen the wizard or his apprentice? Shouldn't we have passed them on our way here? And where are the prisoners?”

  “How the hell should I know?” The man addressed bent down to retrieve something from the dirt and inspected it. It was the front half of an arrow, and there was dried blood on it. “Looks like we're not the first to get here. Don't just sit there. See what you can find.”

  After that he stepped closer to the protruding rails and scrutinized the ground around them. He picked up two pieces of metal and laid the longer one across the broken rails. Holding the other one in his hand like a hammer, he rapped smartly eight times on the crossbar, listening to the way the metal sounded. Then, after a moment's thought, he hammered out seven groupings of Morse, smiling slightly as he finished.

  “What was that banging, Lieutenant?” Another of the men had returned and dismounted.

  The lieutenant took a swig from his canteen. “Just sending our regards to the Honcho. What did you find?”

  “Looks like two sets of tracks. One of 'em starts suddenly as if they dropped out of the sky and started walking. I know, I know, we must have missed the back trail somehow. The other set was someone arriving on a horse from over that way, to the east.”

  “Send a couple of the men to scout it out, sergeant. The rest are with me.”

  “Yessir.” He saluted smartly and swung back into his saddle to tell the others.

  The lieutenant examined the arrow again. “Too many questions,” he remarked to himself. “Who shot you? Who did you strike? And where is the body?”

  The arrow did not answer.

  “Evers, Wilson,” said the lieutenant. “Head back to the outpost and bring some more men to watch this spot. I'll stay here with the others until you get back.”

  Wilson, a tall man with sandy hair sticking out from under his Stetson, appeared troubled. “Do you think they got the wizard, Lieutenant?”

  “No, Corporal, I do not.”

  “Why not, sir?”

  “Because unless they're idiots, they would have made him leave his staff behind. And whatever else the Texans are, they're no fools. Get going.”

  “Yessir.”

  After Evers and Wilson had departed, he took another sip from his canteen and held up the arrowhead again. “I hope you know what you're doing, old man.”

  Behind a boulder and wrapped in darkness, Xander hoped so too. He'd heard enough. Struggling to his feet, he fished out his bottle of stickum and applied some to the staff. He wasn't sure that he could hold on all the way back to Denver, but there was no other choice. The few field dressings those men had in their saddlebags were not going to be enough for his wound, and he might not survive the bouncy trot back.

  I must be getting old, he thought. Back in the day, no T-rat would've got the drop on me like that. Serves me right for not paying attention.

  A wave of dizziness passed through him and he staggered a bit, then he gritted his teeth and took hold of the staff and began to weave the pathspace tighter through the swizzle. Lester, you're going to have to hold on by yourself until I can get patched up. I'd be no use to you now.

  He un-wove the invisibility spell and turned up the swizzle flow. In a few moments, the staff was singing its bass roar again and he rose into the sky.

  Chapter 42

  Kristana: “not a moment too soon”

  Although it was mid-morning now, there was a chilly wind blowing across the rooftop. She ignored it as she returned the salute from Jenkins. “Any more reports come in, Steven?”

  “Not yet, Governor. Just the one that let us know your daughter's safe. No word on the wizard or his apprentice, but I'm sure we'll hear more soon.”

  “I'll leave you to it, then.”

  Where are you, Xander? We know you found them or Aria wouldn't have gotten away. But why weren't you with her? As always, thoughts of the wizard and her daughter were entwined in her mind. How could it be otherwise? Aria was safe, but what if something had happened to him? She had no other wizard. Perhaps someday Lester would be able to relieve him as head wizard, if he survived. But not yet. Xander was irreplaceable.

  Are you sure you mean that in a military sense?

  The intruding thought made her heart leap. Where are you?

  I'll be there in a minute. The thought was colored with pain. I've been shot.

  She sprang toward the stairwell, the guard standing near the door jerked involuntarily in surprise as she nearly pounced on him. “Get the doctor. Wound kit. Move!” He gaped at her, then dashed inside.

  She stared around the roof, looking for something soft for Xander to land on. He'd be coming in sloppy, probably barely hanging on, from the pain she'd sensed. If this had been ground level, there would have been hay for horses, but on this bare rooftop she saw nothing suitable. Grimacing from the cold, she whipped off her jacket and threw it down. “Steven! Get over here and take off your jacket!”

  He hurried over, puzzlement clear on his face but obeying.

  In moments they could hear the deep roar of Xander's staff. She swung her head around and located him coming from the southeast, barely over the rooftops of the other downtown buildings. Pull up or you'll hit the wall!

  Either he heard her thought or realized at the last minute that he was too low. The staff curved up toward the roof and cleared the railing by inches. He flew straight at her and she stepped aside at the last second and reached out to grab him. Both of them tumbled to the roof. The staff flew out of his fingers and slid across the roof and tried to push through the low wall around the top of the building.

  Xander flopped over on his back. His eyes fluttered open. “Are you all right? Sorry about the landing.”

  The front of his clothes were sticky with blood. “Shut up, you old fool,” she said. “Where is that doctor? If he forgets his kit I swear I'll throw him off the roof myself!”

  In a minute or so the stairwell door banged open and Doctor Daniels burst out, followed by Steven. He hurried over to them and set his bag down on the roof as he examined the wound.

  “Stay conscious. Don't pass out on me. How'd this happen?”

  “Shot from behind,” Xander managed. “Careless of me.”

  “Roll him on his side.” They pulled his cloak off and the doctor located the entry wound. He pulled herbs and bottles out of the bag and set to work.

  “How bad is it?” Kristana asked him, not caring if it sounded like a dumb question.

  “Could be worse. Looks like it missed his heart. Of course it did. He'd be dead already if it hadn't. From what I saw, it looks like he broke the shaft and removed it himself. He's still bleeding, though. Hand me that rose bark. Thanks. Lucky for you your daughter started a herb garden last year. Even luckier we have too many roses.”

  “Why?”

  “Rose bark's a natural astringent. Helps stop the bleeding.” He poured something from a bottle on the back wound, then shoved fresh leaves on top of the shredded rose bark and taped it down. “The oil's a mixture of extract from oregano, cloves, and cinnamon. Natural disinfectants.” Daniels spread clean paper on the roof and rolled Xander's back on top of it to get at the chest wound. Pulling a washcloth out of his bag, he doused it with the oil mixture and cleaned the exit wound as best he could. Grim and focused, he darted hands into the bag again, pulling out more rose bark, herbs and tape, packing the wound and binding it shut.

  “Can we move him now?” she
asked.

  Daniels pursed his lips. “Ordinarily, I'd say no,” he said. “Not until the bleeding slows. But it's cold out here and he's stressed enough as it is. We'll get a stretcher under him and get him inside in a bit.”

  Xander opened his eyes again. “They got Lester,” he muttered. “Someone has to go after him.” He tried to move and coughed up some blood.

  “Shut up,” said the doctor. “You've got a punctured lung, you idiot. Unless you know some healing magic you're not going anywhere for quite a while.” He turned to face the Governor. “Post some guards if you have to. If this moron tries to stand up and slip out, tie him to the bed.”

  “He won't get away,” she assured him. “Steven, go find a stretcher or get someone to help you make one.”

  “Don't take him back to his own rooms,” the doctor cautioned. “Move him as little as you can. Just get him down to the top floor and out of the cold.”

  “He's lost a lot of blood,” she said. “Can we do anything about that?”

  “I'd like to,” he replied. “But if I remember correctly, he has O negative blood. Any other kind would kill him.”

  “So I guess I can't donate,” she said. “I'm A positive.”

  “Nope. The Ancients had machines to filter out the red blood cells so they could give just plasma. That would resupply electrolytes, nutrients, platelets for clotting, and such. But we don't have that these days. All I can do is siphon whole blood.”

  “Who else in the building has O negative? There must be someone.”

  “It's not common,” he said. “The only person I can remember offhand is your daughter Aria, and she's not here. He's just going to have to hold on until we find someone else.”

  Chapter 43

  Lester: “my father's death before him”