Mimic lowered his head in his most servile manner. “Yes, Boss. I believe you are.”
“Just look at this, will you?” Lirry said, passing his long green hand about in a grand, sweeping gesture. “Is this not the most incredible fortune? Have you ever in your wildest dreams conceived of such wonders? No, of course you haven’t, you’re just a technician fourth class, after all. But I have, Mimic, and it’s almost too good to be true!”
“Yes, Master,” Mimic replied. “Almost.”
Lirry took in a deep, long breath, relaxing into the soft cushions around him. He knew he was better than anyone he had ever met. Every boss he had ever known had failed to appreciate the specialness of Lirry. Lirry has seen it in their eyes, heard it in their barking voices, and felt it with every blow they had rained down on his head. They were shortsighted, he knew, every one of them. Now he had proof of his specialness. Now they would have to acknowledge his greatness! He had a lot of debts to settle, had kept track of each one in a detailed ledger in his mind and was relishing the accounts all coming so spectacularly due in the very, very near future.
Who could contradict it? he thought. Just one look at the splendor and opulence that now surrounded him would bring any common goblin to their knees in awe and envy. He was looking forward to that, too.
His quarters had been assigned to him at the behest of Krupuk-chukup, the vice-chamberlain to Dong Mahaj-Megong himself. Located in the middle tiers of the fortress-city of Dong Mahaj-Megong, it epitomized the dreams of every working goblin throughout the kingdom.
The fortress-city had originally been a Titan construct in the ancient days before the Last War. Its original purpose still remained a mystery, but Dong Udang Dibalik Bahtuh, founder of their kingdom, discovered it during a hasty pilgrimage into the mountains at the end of the Last War. Dong Udang’s goblin clan was starving and on the verge of mutiny when they came upon the abandoned buildings and heavily damaged mechanical constructs. The discovery was heralded by Dong Udang as a miraculous occurrence: proof that their ancestors were smiling on his leadership and right to rule. He proclaimed himself to be the Emperor of all Goblins and a direct descendant of the goblin god-king Surga, master of all creation before the Titans came along and ruined everything. He then waxed eloquent in a vision that his clan would become the lords of all the clans and rule all of G’tok in power!
It is also known that Dong Udang was suffering from a raging fever at the time. More cynical goblins might have questioned his visions. However, there was plenty of food in the area and the buildings offered shelter from the storms raging across the land in those days. It seemed somehow imprudent for the rest of the clan to question the miracle. Following Dong Udang seemed only as crazy as following anyone else in that dreadful time.
Thus, the legend was born.
Since those glorious days of the ancients, each successive Dong leader of the clan had attempted to bring to pass the prophecy in his own name. Each Dong also wanted to be remembered as the Dong who did it. Thus each successive king had renamed the kingdom and its capital city for himself the moment the preceding Dong keeled over either naturally or with a little help.
As goblins did not read, however, this renaming might have been of little inconvenience. All one needed to know was who was in charge to know the names of places. So the successive Dongs needed some other way of leaving behind a mark that would show all the other goblins their progress toward the world-spanning destiny of their clan.
This took the form of opulence. Riches were an outward sign of an inner and divinely manifest destiny. Anything that was worthwhile, therefore, was sought after, collected, and brought before the Great Dongs in order to enhance their power and glory.
Lirry’s quarters reflected this. As part of the royal houses, it was required, by divine decree, to demonstrate the wealth of Dong Mahaj-Megong to any who might enter its confines.
The central chamber was circular, with glorious metal walls, each tastefully streaked with actual rust. These rose impressively overhead nearly twenty feet to a domed metal ceiling with a luxurious fill-valve positioned elegantly just off-center. Large round observation ports with thick glass were fitted into the dome as well, allowing a cascade of natural light to fill the room during the day. The decorator had incorporated the long vertical cooling pipes running up the wall at four corners of the room tastefully into the decor. Crimson cloth hung in great swaths between the pressure relief plugs circling the chamber. The floor itself was a metal grate cut to fit perfectly into the round room. Through its cross-hatching could be seen a collection of tastefully arranged gears, shafts, screws, fans, pulleys, and cables that would make even the most jaded goblin brown with envy.
Large pipes fitted into the sides of this fine dwelling led to the other chambers of the apartment. Lirry’s bedchamber itself was nearly as glorious, a spherical tank with an array of viewing ports looking out over the lower tiers of the fortress-city. A smaller pipe led from the central tank to Mimic’s servant’s quarters, which had been created from an oversized butterfly valve that had been rusted shut.
Lirry reached back over his head, pulling a long strip of red meat from the table at the head of the lounge, and started slurping it with relish. “Mimic, have you checked the Device today?”
“Not this hour, Master,” Mimic responded. Lirry had insisted that Mimic call him “Master” ever since they had both been ushered into their apartments. Lirry felt it more appropriate to Mimic, considering his new station in life.
“Then you had better do it,” Lirry sniffed. “We have important company coming to take a look at this Device. Famous company,” he added, his eyebrows arched and the tips of his ears twitching.
“Famous, Master?” Mimic asked simply.
“Yes, famous, not that you would understand such things.” Lirry yawned. Condescension suited him, he thought. Considering how quickly he was gaining prominence, he needed some place of acceptable superiority from which to address the less worthy. “They are expected and I won’t have the moment spoiled by that balky device acting up again!”
“Yes, Master,” Mimic said with a gentle smile.
Lirry frowned, a cloud passing over his radiant joy. He never liked it when Mimic smiled. He always felt there was something more going on behind those sharp teeth than placid servile contentment. Still, Lirry could not, as the old goblin saying went, put a nose to what was going on with Mimic. He wished the technician would just fall down a well or something so that he would have an excuse to find another servant.
On the other hand, Lirry knew that losing Mimic was the last thing he wanted. The Device was troublesome and its details still eluded him. He was a master technician and, as such, certainly had more skill and talent than any technician fourth class ever could. His intention had always been to keep Mimic around just long enough to learn the secrets of the Device. Then he could safely be rid of the little maggot. Yet no matter how long Lirry spent with the ticking mechanism, he could not ferret out the underlying workings of the thing. Pieces occasionally fell off, then Mimic would fit them back into places quite different than the ones from which they came, and yet the Device would work. Lirry had even taken key pieces out of the Device—pieces that should have stopped it dead—and still it worked at Mimic’s touch. But get the thing more than a few yards away from the ugly little goblin and—boing!—it would stop quicker than a square wheel on a rusted axle.
Lirry hated Mimic because he needed Mimic.
Still, he was confident in his own moral, ethical, spiritual, and intellectual superiority. It was only a matter of time before he understood the Device as well as Mimic did, and then he could drown the little rat.
“Master,” Mimic said quietly. “The Device is working perfectly. You will be most proud.”
“Of course it is working perfectly,” Lirry sneered as he gazed critically at his servant. “Oh, honestly, Mimic! Can’t you do anything about straightening that left ear?”
“I am sorry, Master,�
� Mimic said humbly. “I shall do my best not to embarrass you or—”
A cascade of metallic sound rang through the chamber.
“They are here!” Lirry announced as much to himself as to Mimic. “Quickly, get the door! Bring them in!”
Mimic scurried over toward the iron hatch that served as the entrance to their suite of rooms. Lirry struck a pose in the middle of the room, raising his receded chin, and quickly spit on his hands and stroked both points of his ears upward.
Mimic came back through the hatch, barely able to speak. “M-master! I beg to present the Vice-Chancellor Kali-putri and . . .” He seemed unable to continue.
Through the hatchway stepped the imposing figure of Kali-putri. His vest was a deep cranberry over a tunic of the finest wool. The folds of flesh hanging down from his chins spoke of incredible wealth. He was shorter than Lirry by nearly half a foot, his black eyes sunk well back into his flabby head. He even wore shoes, an unheard-of extravagance for any goblin.
Yet, impressive and awe-inspiring as Kali-putri was, Lirry barely took notice of him.
She entered just behind the vice-chancellor. She was nearly four feet tall. Her body was shaped like a pear, huge hips hanging from narrow shoulders. Her mouth was pinched and narrow under oversized cheekbones. Her almond-shaped eyes were a light jaundice yellow, slanting upward under heavy black eyebrows. Her pointed ears extended a full half hand above her green head on either side. Her linked-metal blouse could not restrain the large breasts that sagged precipitously down to her rounded, pot belly. All of this was supported by spindly legs over enormous feet.
Lirry’s jaw dropped.
She was the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen.
Kali-putri could see the effect the girl was having on his host. “Technician Lirry, it is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance at last. I see that you can appreciate my escort. This is Gynik.”
Gynik stepped forward, her smile baring a perfect set of razor-sharp teeth. She held out her mottled hand with its perfectly sharpened nails. “Lirry, at last, I’ve been so looking forward to seeing your fabulous discovery! I don’t know when I’ve been quite this excited.”
“I can vouch for that,” Kali-putri said with a deep chuckle. “When I told her about your find, Lirry, she insisted that we come over as soon as possible.”
“Hummnnn,” was all Lirry could manage.
Gynik smiled once more at Lirry.
Mimic entered the room suddenly with a large chair from Lirry’s bedchamber. “Perhaps the lady would care to sit down?”
“Oh, no thank you,” Gynik said, dismissing Mimic with the faintest wave of her hand. “We really cannot stay for very long, I do hope you understand, Lirry. Oh, I hope I’m not being too forward! May I call you Lirry?”
“Mmmuhnnunnn,” came as close to speech as Lirry could manage in the presence of this goddess.
“Uh, Master Lirry,” Mimic said, “shall I get the Device for our visitors?”
“HunUMMnann,” Lirry mumbled while he managed a nod. He could not take his eyes off the woman’s incredible figure.
Mimic staggered back through the pipe once more with the chair. He managed to return shortly thereafter cradling the Device.
Gynik’s yellow eyes widened at the sight of it. “May we see it operate?”
Lirry finally shook himself from his stupor. “Why . . . why of course you may see it operate! Mimic! Set it down on this table! We shall have a demonstration for the lady this instant!”
Mimic nodded. He carefully set the mechanism down on the table.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
The long hands on the face moved.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Gynik’s eyes widened at the sight of it.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Lirry smiled, though he could not decide if it was with pride or with relief.
“Remarkable!” exclaimed the vice-chancellor.
Suddenly, Gynik looked up. “Kali-sweetie, I really must get back to the district. The day is getting late. Would you please be so good as to call the porters to pick us up now?”
“But, Gynik,” the vice-chancellor protested, “we’ve only just arrived! I’ve many more questions for—”
“Oh, but I simply must get back now! Please be a dear, would you? You wouldn’t want my errands to keep me too late into the evening, would you?”
The vice-chancellor chuckled deeply. “I suppose that is that, Lirry. I will recommend you to the court. I would not be surprised if Dong Mahaj-Megong himself asked for you to attend within the week. Perhaps my questions can wait until then. If you will please excuse us!”
“Oh, you go ahead, Kali-sweetie,” Gynik said, batting her heavy eyelids. “I just want to watch the Device for a few moments more.”
The vice-chancellor looked as though he were going to protest.
“I’ll just be a moment! You get the porters and we’ll be on our way!”
The vice-chancellor shrugged and stepped quickly through the hatchway.
Gynik leaned forward to examine the Device more closely. Lirry watched her breasts sway headily under her linked-metal blouse. “I would certainly just love to hear all about how you came by such a remarkable find, Lirry! I think you are a man of hidden talents. I would simply adore learning more about you as well.”
Lirry swallowed.
Gynik stood up and turned toward the hatch exiting the suite. “Perhaps I might call later this evening and you could regale me with your tales of adventure and conquest. Perhaps you could show me a few of your other things . . . and I might show you a few of mine?”
“Huh?” Lirry blinked. “Of course, I . . . I’d like that.”
“So would I! I just love to barter, but I warn you,” Gynik said with a smile as she stepped through the hatchway on her way out, “I drive a hard bargain!”
“Hhhnnumminah!” was all Lirry could say.
31
Traveling Companions
The weapons rested once more in their racks. The long day had drawn to a close, the horns of the Temple rumbling to signal the end of the final worship hour over the city.
The swords in the rack were just as glad for the rest. They spoke to one another in a language that was beyond the understanding of their makers and, for that matter, beyond any real understanding of the swords themselves. They did not know how they communicated, nor did they question much concerning their place in creation. Philosophy was not a part of their world. Swords understood the arts of war and nothing else—insofar as they understood anything at all.
“I hope they don’t give me that skinny warrior again,” spoke a shortsword by the name of K’thwingsh. “He gets all excited in combat and keeps swinging my blade into the dirt. I tell you, I get a nick every time he does it. I’m losing my edge!”
“Aye, it’s a sorry lot this time,” complained Tshu’shik, a two-handed broadsword known for his temperamental nature. “They’ll not last long enough to make a good showing of it. Not nearly as good as that group we had back seventy-three years ago. Remember that one?”
“Oh, I wish you would shut up about that group!” rang a dirk named Sni’dinkt. “Every night we hear how your warrior maiden stood in the midst of three hundred of Satinka’s horde—”
“It wasn’t three hundred!” the broadsword clanged.
“One hundred . . . two hundred . . .” Sni’dinkt chimed gleefully. “Who can keep track when your story grows with every telling?”
The other blades in the armory rang with laughter.
“I’ll cleave your warrior for that one,” Tshu’shik rattled with embarrassment.
“If you’re fast enough!” the dirk flashed back.
“With any luck you’ll be buried with him,” the broadsword rejoined.
A shudder passed among the blades at the thought.
“Well, I think the current group is not as bad as all that,” a rapier observed, cutting the conversation in a different direction. “There are several promisin
g warriors in the group who might acquit their blades rather honorably.”
“That may be true, but they all seem to have been claimed.” Chi’shishinth, a longsword with an elegant pearl pommel, sighed. “And by swords which otherwise one might think were rather—”
“Ugly?” the rapier offered.
“All those shortswords with black pommels,” the longsword responded. “They are all so much alike . . . and so standoffish. I don’t recall ever seeing swords like them before, except for S’shnickt.”
“That’s right,” the dirk cut in. “Say, where is S’shnickt? Maybe we could ask him about it?”
Their question rang down through the endless ranks of weapons racks of the armory. In time the question itself came back to the dirk.
S’shnickt was no longer in the armory. For that matter, two other weapons seemed to be missing as well.
The weapons were all very excited at this prospect. Missing weapons meant combat and death were in the offing. They would gladly have alerted the Pir—if for no other reason than they might find themselves pressed into immediate use—but they could not.
There were no Craftis among the Pir.
“Get up!” the quiet voice rumbled.
Galen was having trouble focusing his eyes in the darkness. “What? What do you want?”
“Get up now! Get up and get out!” the voice insisted.
“Galen, I think we had better do as they say.” It was Rhea’s voice. Galen could just make her out now, standing between bunks. Dim, flickering light from the open doorway to the west was the only illumination. She looked at him with sadness, her eyes those of an animal that had run out of places to hide. She clung to Maddoc with one hand while she clutched a blanket around her with the other. The madman stood stoically next to her, holding the blanket she had apparently offered him over one arm. Maddoc watched the shadows all around them, a grim look of determination on his face.
There were plenty of shadows to watch. Galen could now see the outlines of several Pir monks standing in the aisles around them. All held their dragonstaffs at hand. They stood back some distance from the three, their eyes watching them from the black abysses of their hoods.
Mystic Warrior Page 25