by P. S. Power
By the time she was finished with what food was in front of her, leaving an empty plate with a silver seeming fork on it, her mind was well and truly focused.
Then, she clapped her hands, slowly. Looking around at everyone else.
“We’ll…” Her voice was slow, which happened when people were in a fairly deep trance. “Need to wash up first, before handling the book. Otherwise Willum will tackle us. I wish I had some gloves for it.”
They all got up. A wash station appeared, next to the eating table, along with some soft and fluffy seeming red towels. The line of thought had come from Cindy, calling it all into being.
They all cleaned themselves carefully, sharing the water, which wasn’t really there, not being real. No part of it was, but it carried away the oils and detritus of the meal anyway. The towels absorbed the water, which wasn’t truly needed, but so common a thing that they all used it. Then, when it was made to vanish, going back into the ship, taking the bits added to the water into the recycling system they all turned to the book.
Then, oddly enough, Cindy pointed at him with a single finger.
“Willum will do this part. I can’t just read the book itself, since no one in this reality understands it. The physical book is carrying some data, but the words coming into focus aren’t that helpful. I know that it was made by several people, not just one. The writing is from three distinct individuals. I might get more than that, as we go along.”
Patricia moved behind Will and pushed him a bit.
“Sit then, oh mighty code breaking scribe. You already had that ‘M’ means ‘I’. What does that mean?”
Cindy, moving in behind Willum as he sat, touched his shoulder. From the sense coming off of her… It was just that she liked him. As in that they were close friends. Not anything else. Except that she kind of thought she had some minor ownership of him. As if they were dating or something.
If so, then she needed to get on the ball and let him know about that part of things. Sure, by noble rules he could have six girlfriends or even more, but if they didn’t have an arrangement, it would be too easy to let her slip away from his life. Traveling like he did would probably ensure that, if an effort wasn’t made that way.
He had to concentrate deeply then, and spoke so slowly it had to sound like he was drugged.
“This… We know how it’s written and have spaces for the words. I need something to write with. We can flip it and fill in the letters we know. Call it the first page?”
He was provided with a focus stone pad, instead of paper. It took him a distracting minute or two to understand how it worked. The thing wasn’t that it was hard to use or even uncomfortable. It was simply new to him. A thing that took learning, no matter how simple. The stone stylus in his hand had a magical field on it, that allowed him to use the larger flat stone as a writing surface. Tapping the bottom right of the stone surface turned the page, peeling up from the bottom in appearance so you understood it was happening. Doing the upper left turned it in the other direction. It was all an image though, not anything physically taking place.
“Let me…” He took notes on what they were coming up with, then started to rewrite the whole thing, replacing the letter ‘m’ with an I. It did seem to work, even though it wasn’t enough to give them more than a single word. There were two words that had a single line in it, between two letters. The last letters were each different. A ‘y’ and a ‘p’. Seeing it there, he did the work in his head then.
When he finished the page, most of it not filled in, but several letters being crossed out and replaced, other than just the one they thought they knew. As Orange asked about it, pointing at the stone he was working on, he caught another one.
“It’s the shape of the words. If this is in English, or close to it, then we have enough to do this here. It’s a code, but not an unbreakable one. I still don’t have the key worked out. I might not be able to get it. Math isn’t really a thing I’ve had a lot of training in.” Not past what you learned in a one room school house in the forest.
He’d been given a lot of languages and history, as well as a bit of math and science, stories and songs. He could read and write, but complex tricks with numbers weren’t really needed for farmers and bakers. Not even wood workers. Willum knew how to measure things, and count how many sheep were in the field. Past that, not much had been covered that way.
Bowing however, as well as courtly manners, had been gone over, several times. That wasn’t going to be needed by farmers either. As a boy, not knowing that the schoolmarm had been hired by Countess Thomson to teach her brother’s kids how to survive in the bigger world, it had always seemed off. Wrong and like a waste of time. Honestly, he’d figured it was that the king had demanded it all be taught to them, since it made sense to him. A man that lived that kind of thing every single day.
Now he knew the truth, and it came together a bit more clearly.
Leaving fifteen people in Pine Creek that could, on demand, navigate the halls of power. Correctly enough, if not perfectly. They could go to any land in the world and make themselves understood, at the same time. That most of them were probably farming that day was a waste of all that training. It was something he needed to work on, if he didn’t die in the war. Not getting his old friends involved in that part made sense to him though.
He blinked, pretending that he hadn’t been horribly distracted. It was an issue with very intense focus. You concentrated on a single point, but if that drifted for any reason you could end up on vast tangents before it broke. Worse it was hard to realize you were doing it. You were too focused for that.
Getting his mind back on the book, he kept going. It took a long time. Hours, or possibly even full days. Truly, he couldn’t track which it was. Long enough that he was pulled away from the table, physically, and half carried over to the food area. Things were stuck in his mouth, which were hopefully food, since he ate it all. His mind was still on the book though. That repeated, over and over, with people coming and going, until he finally stopped.
Not understanding why he was doing it, he pushed the note pad away. His eyes didn’t hurt, but did manage to feel gritty and gummy. Probably from not blinking enough for far too long. Orange descended on the pad he’d been using, reading it out loud.
“This is the Chronical of the Demise Alliance. I am the history keeper of our order, Bran Severs. In this work, shall the secrets of our order be produced for those who have seen the light and understand the path we are providing. Allow this work to fill you and provide comfort. For you shall die. That is our promise to you.”
It went on, but the idea was, Will thought, pretty simple. It was a book for people that had already signed up to lead the bad guys. Hopefully the rest of it wasn’t going to be a bunch of boring self-aggrandizing mush. The first bit wasn’t really that bad. Not that informative, but names were mentioned, which had to help. Even better, they seemed to have all the letters already, which would allow the rest of it to go much faster. He could probably fill it out in about a day, now that he had it.
At least he could have, if Patricia hadn’t picked up the book and pad. Holding them as if he weren’t going to be allowed to see any more of it.
“Thanks. Great work, Willum. Very top end. We need to keep this in mind, since it probably would have taken months if anyone else was doing the work. This comes up, from time to time. Code breaking like this. Ciphers are popular in Noram at least. Now, we have this next bit. Thanks for your service. Get out of here. Do something fun for a while. I was just being whined at by Taman not last week about how hard we’re working you. This has earned you some time off. Maybe you can take your girlfriend here on a holiday? Go… Well, I imagine you two can work out something to do that you don’t need us for.”
Orange moved in and rolled her eyes.
“You get the need for operational security, Baker. Both of you, I’m sure. Don’t talk about this. Not in this reality, if you can help it. For now… I agree. Go on a vacatio
n, Will. One month, minimum. No work, unless you get caught up in something and can’t help it. We all know how that one goes. If so… Do it on a beach.” Then the woman hugged him.
It didn’t seem sad or even like she was doing it on purpose. They were, apparently, just that close now. Probably because they’d been in combat together. That had been a dark day, but together, they’d won. Taking back her flagship and saving the crew that hadn’t mutinied. They’d killed enough people that it weighed on him to recall it still. Not enough to stop him from working or anything silly like that.
Cindy stood up, and bowed to the room. That meant the rest of them had to do it as well.
“We have some things to go and do, truth be told. Back to Noram first, since I have about a day’s worth of work left. Then back to my place? That will eat up a month fast. That’s only about four days there.” She pushed his shoulder a bit, as if him not getting the full time made sense to her for some reason. Which it wouldn’t.
Cin might be good at her job, but she wasn’t tied into rules overmuch, if it wasn’t useful to her in the moment.
The words got Tim to shake his head. Out of all of them, he was the one that felt the most concerned for Willum, personally. Cindy was a bit more selfish that way. Though, she seemed to just want his attention, rather than to disrupt his holiday.
“Get a real rest in there. Spend time with friends. No one else is working full time on this issue. There isn’t enough for us to do that way. Which is the point here, really. The rest of us need to actually do our part, finally.” The tall man, his face still disguised to look a bit warped and average, made a face then. “Have those people still been trying to kill you?”
Those people referred to the main body of people on their side. It was strange, but they’d tried for him about half a dozen times.
“Not since the work you did to hide me. I doubt it will throw them off forever.” It gave him something to go and see about on his time off. Finding out exactly what they had in mind, killing him like that.
Trying to end his work, for some reason, probably. Why they didn’t just talk to him didn’t make a lot of sense. Almost as if reading his mind, which was probably just the case, the other man, his uncle, shook his head at Will. It was nearly stern.
“No. Going off to confront them alone isn’t a great idea. They seem to have given up for now, so take the win and go have some fun. We need whatever data we might get from this book, before taking any action. The Demise Alliance, that sounds like a promising name for a group of people that want to destroy everything, doesn’t it?”
It did. Before he could answer, Cindy pulled on his left arm, moving him away at a decent speed. She wasn’t a normal woman, as far as strength or speed went. Willum could match her, or even do more in some ways, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t leaving into the transport hut fast enough that he bounced off the back wall.
Cindy was not repentant for the act.
“Bye all. We’ll be back when we are. Don’t wait up!” Then, rudely, she slapped the wall, well away from the star sigil next to the door, causing a blue door to spring into place.
Tapping it, he shook his head.
“The others are all red.” It could mean he was in a different reality, he supposed, but Cindy wrinkled her nose, tapping words on the back wall. It was kind of cute. Which was what she was going for. That much was clear from her field. They tended to synch up easily that way, if they weren’t careful.
“These are new. It’s Dareg Canton’s basic design, but the work was done by Erath, of the Ysidril. You need to visit with them soon. To set up being the human ambassador to their old home world? Well, technically, you should get with Neesa. She’s a nice girl, isn’t she?”
The door was opened with another tap, on the wall. This time the door was red, the normal color for such things. The scene through the front wall was the Capital, the dry air and scent of cooking, people and animals giving the place away. From the street in front of them, they were near the Thomson family residence there. It was a nice big place, but looked like a house, not a tiny palace copy.
The woman next to him looked around, then went up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.
“I’m going to be here working, after I sleep. That last bit made for a long day and a half. I need to get that not sleeping thing down. See you… Tomorrow? Late in the day. That or the next. You can find me here. If I don’t find you first.”
Willum, a little impulsively, hugged her. It was close, but nice enough. Really, he’d kind of thought that they weren’t going to be that cozy. They’d had sex, but Cindy wasn’t the type to settle down. Then, dating for a while wasn’t that.
She shrugged, clearly reading about what he was thinking.
“Well, you know, if I don’t try, I won’t really learn how to do it, will I? Besides, three different women back home are angling for you already. If I don’t make my grab now, then they’ll whisk you away. That Krista Hall is even all foreign and exotic, being from a different reality. Plus, that thing where she’s a famous actress. If you’re going to throw me over it should at least be for Lydia or Bridget. Bridgie is even legal now.”
That got him to snort, since they were both kind of young for him. Good choices otherwise, no doubt.
“Ah? Those are the offerings on the table then? That’s not a bad spread of women to choose from… I also have May. I should get with her soon. We have that fake marriage thing going on, so her people won’t abuse her.” He was trying to tease, but it came out sounding deathly serious. Cindy got it anyway, since that was her power. She knew things. All of it, at times.
“Oh, heck yeah. If I wasn’t grabbing you up for myself, I’d suggest you do all of them anyway. I’m selfish though, so if you want other girls they’ll need to be in a world that I’m not. At least not all the time. You should get one for here though. Maybe two. I’d be jealous about it, but asking a guy not to sleep around when he can go to infinite alternate realities doesn’t even make sense. Just don’t get them all pregnant. That would end up being a hassle and a half, right now.”
That got him to smile, and think about visiting his fake wife, soon. May wasn’t really married to him, but by pretending they were together, she honestly had some protection from her own people. That didn’t sound like a fun holiday though, so he put it out of his head and went back home.
To the Black Tower.
Chapter two
The building, his only real home, wasn’t as Willum had left it at all. The large black stone tower was, if anything, bigger and more majestic that day, as he craned his neck to see just how high it went. When he’d left, about a week before if not longer by nearly twice that, it had been about seventy feet high, with just the roundness of the tower base as its footprint.
That was fine enough, being made to do things like that.
Now it had a small, black castle attached on the right-hand side. There was even a blue and purple flag attached to the top of the tower. The triangular kind, instead of the rectangle that actually meant something political. This one was, he had to presume, a decoration. There was one of those at each corner of the building. It really did look kind of festive, he had to admit. Like someone that recalled what fun was lived there. Not that he’d ever been that much of one for vast parties.
It was the kind of thing he needed to work on in life. Every time he’d tried to go to anything like that, or hold one, it had been all about work. Given his current job, that wasn’t a great thing.
The steps leading up into the place were smooth and polished looking, since the whole thing was created out of magic. It wasn’t even really there. A temporary illusion. One that did its job anyway, which was enough for the moment. If he wanted to live there longer than about twenty years, he’d need to build something more permanent. Probably out of stone, given that he’d been made immortal. An Ancient.
If he survived, then he’d be around for a very long time, unless he had the work undone. There was really no need
for that, however. If he got too tired of living, he could just go sit in the void and let go. Dissolving into the background of nothing at all.
That thought, as dismal as it might have been, kind of cheered him. It needed to be tested in real space, and might take a bit longer for the effect to happen, but he was nearly certain that the reason behind the enemy’s attacks wasn’t real, given that. Possibly in a way that he could prove to them.
Not that Willum thought for a moment that simply explaining how and why they were wrong would do anything of note for those who believed most firmly. If they could be swayed by mere facts, they probably wouldn’t have been off attacking other realities, with a plan that clearly wasn’t working. All they’d managed was to kill people.
Given their own beliefs, they weren’t even really doing that. Which was, naturally, going to be the portion of their thoughts that allowed them to harm others. After all, they honestly believed that no one ever died. That no one could. No matter what they did. In a way, it probably meant they were only half as evil as he thought. Thinking that their deeds had no real long-term effects probably made it a lot easier for most of them to take action in the first place.
On top of that, a lot of them were clearly being enslaved to force them into action. That was the key. That the vast majority of their agents didn’t really want to go around trying to destroy everything.
The problem was that, at least from the little he understood of the greater reality, they were partially correct. While people might let go and vanish in the end, if they chose, killing a part of a being in one reality really did just break the thing into two new spaces. Or more. Each action reflecting all the possible outcomes of an event.
If they were too similar, then, from what he’d been told, they might well come back together, merging two worlds into a single whole. Most people didn’t see it happening all that often, but with all his travel and better than average memory, Willum had. Most of the time the things were trivial. The spelling of a name shifting, for instance. People’s eyes changing color from one meeting to the next, when there was no reason they should be doing that.