Jigsaw World

by JD Lovil

  “If you are going out dragon hunting, you need to have some stuff.” The Sorcerer said. “Here are some fire blankets and an assortment of spears, harpoons, arrows and swords. I would have gotten you shields, but frankly, if the dragon gets that close to you, you would be dragon kibble anyhow.”

  With that dubious pronouncement, and with a MapQuest map and directions provided by the ever helpful Herald of Cernunnos, the group found themselves watching the white dashes that divided the highway between Camden and Provo go by with the miles, as they made the minor trip between the towns along a route that in other circumstances would have been restful.

  Arpad and Veritasia had insisted on coming with Markus, Tom, Karla and Vera on this trip. Tom examined her motives and behaviors in a circumspect, but careful manner, and could see no indication that Veritasia was motivated to come along with any other motivation than to be helpful and active. It looked like she wasn’t going to be catty about their history.

  The trip was just a shade under a hundred miles, with relatively well maintained blacktop all the way. Some significant portion of the trip was on winding rural roads, so the trip took a shade over two hours to travel. When they got to Provo, most of the party wondered why they bothered. It was more a rural community than any sort of town, with small collections of related families living in the houses that their family had owned for generations. While it was all homey and rustic, the place hardly seemed to be worth the bother of saving.

  They pulled up to the family home of Diane Cannon, who was an apparent acquaintance of Charlie’s, and was the place chosen by him for them to meet up with him. She was a very good looking red head of the Irish persuasion, and she had a brood of what is known in the Celtic communities as ‘Cotton tops’. It seemed that the children, who would someday be blonde, red headed or brown haired always started their lives with a head topped by almost white blonde hair.

  They all went in to meet Charlie, who was sitting on the couch, with his feet up on the coffee table, drinking sassafras tea collected and made right there on the property. He had what is generally known professionally as a shit eating grin on his face, which was possibly a sign of his happiness to see the group, or more likely because he had spent all day in the presence of a gorgeous redhead.

  When the family left the room to come up with some food for the hungry travelers, Charlie confided in the group that he had chosen Diane’s place because, in his world, she had run away when she was fifteen with a guy, who had taken her to Louisiana and had killed her. When he had found out that she was alive in this world, he just had to see how she had come out.

  Diane and the kids brought in a big tray of food, mostly sandwiches and a pizza, along with a gallon of milk and a couple of big cokes. Everyone got a drink and some food, and they sat around the coffee table eating while Charlie explained the current problem.

  “There have been some sightings of a flying serpent or dragon in the area. Several people and a few calves have gone missing, presumed consumed by said dragon.” Charlie said. “One person got a photo of the dragon, and I recognize it as the creature that the Lakota knew as Unhcegila. It is reputed to have first been seen rising from the ice in the North Atlantic, and has been seen pretty much all over the states since then.”

  “So what can we do about it?” Tom asked. “It has the advantage of flight, and there is no way that we can intercept it once it decides to avoid us in this country.”

  “True. But I have a plan.” Charlie responded. “We can all defend ourselves should it attack using the weapons. I have some spelled sunglasses to protect us from its killing lights. Just remember to only look at the dragon through the sunglasses.”

  “So how do we go on the offensive against this thing?” Markus asked. “Can’t it just flap away whenever we get close to it?”

  “I have an answer to that as well.” Charlie replied. “We will summon the Tlanuwa, the Cherokee Thunderbird to kill the dragon.”

  “Long as I don’t have to dance naked to summon it, count me in!” Tom joked.

  “Nah, just the girls have to get naked for this one.” Leered Charlie. “Just joking. It will just take me a moment to complete the summoning. I need to get into a meditative state.”

  With that, he removed himself into one of the back bedrooms, where items that looked like his suggested that he had stayed last night. He settled into a Lotus position and started to do his thing, having to stop only once to throw a small girl off who had climbed into his lap. After a bit, he must have been satisfied with the exercise, because he opened his eyes and rejoined the group.

  “Okay, it is done. The Tlanuwa should be here sometime this evening.” He said. “It has to fly here from the Little Tennessee River basin, so it will be that long. I suggest that we go out and check one of the kill sites.”

  Charlie cautioned that they and the community would be almost as endangered by the Thunderbird as by the dragon, as she was known to carry off the occasional cow or person to snack on herself. She should focus on the Unhcegila, because he had instilled an idea in the Thunderbird that the dragon was encroaching on her territory, so she will be focused on him, and then should immediately fly back home when the deed is done, but get close enough, and she might try to snack on the group.

  They all got in the jeep that Charlie had come up with from somewhere, and he drove them out to a field on the North side of the Blacktop, not more than two miles from Diane’s place. They all got out and followed Charlie into the middle of the field, where a cow’s carcass lay forlornly. A gigantic tear had opened the carcass up from the belly up the side to the shoulder, which would have been enough to kill the animal, but there was more. Around the eyes there was what looked like a highly accelerated rotting process that took place, so that the eyes were almost free to fall out of the orbits due to the softness of the rotting tissue around them.

  Charlie pointed out that the necropsy was a direct result of exposure to one of the seven patches on the scales of the serpent that emitted a strange blue light. Just seeing the light wouldn’t kill you, but if the beams of the light directly struck the eyes, you would instantaneously die from a massive system collapse, and the flesh struck by the direct beam would rapidly rot away.

  After hearing about the light, and seeing the evidence, everyone managed to don their sunglasses as nonchalantly as possible. Once they had seen the killing field, they were all too happy to return to the nourishing home of the lovely Diane to spend the night in familial comfort before seeking out the beasts tomorrow to conclude the task.

  Later on that night, Tom was treated to the jarringly incongruous sight of four ladies singing country songs in perfect harmony while playing guitars, while a whole herd of kids ignored them studiously while texting each other on their smart phones. Later there was food, and there was Muscadine Wine, and there was home brew, and there was crappy television, and later still, there were feather beds.

  In the morning, the group traveled back to the killing field to set up to either witness or do the destruction of the flying serpent. They took up positions under a gigantic oak tree in the middle of the field, and Tom manned a harpoon gun, which launched the harpoon via the use of compressed air, and tethered to the oak tree via the long cable attached to the shaft. Everybody was careful to wear their sunglasses for this mission.

  It was about nine am when they took up their position, and it was about eleven fifteen when they first caught sight of the massive hawk form of the Thunderbird. The thing looked to be about the size of a small elephant, but somehow, it had no difficulty riding the air currents in search of its prey.

  It flapped its way to the south, barely adjusting its course to avoid what it must have seen as an inept attempt to ambush it. In a minute or less, it was out of sight, supposedly hunting the dragon. Everybody settled back into more relaxed positions to wait out the time until the worm showed up.

  It was about twelve-thirty when they finally caught their first glimpse of the dragon. Its scales were gl
eaming an iridescent copper-red in the sunlight, and spread over its front side were patches that glowed a sky blue glow. These patches were said to be deadly, should their light be focused on the eyes of any mortal creature. The Thunderbird was not mortal, and it was theoretically not endangered by the glow.

  The serpent was first seen flapping its way out of the south, looking a bit harassed. The group surmised that the Thunderbird had found it, and it was attempting to make its escape. The reptile did not seem to notice the group, there beneath the tree, and he was about to fly directly overhead. It could not have been planned better.

  Tom sighted the harpoon on the nearing dragon, eased it upward to adjust for the distance, and then he squeezed the trigger. The tube bucked on the tripod, and the cable set up a high pitched whine as it unwound through the tube. For a second the spear was in flight, and then it buried itself into the neck of the beast. The dragon instantly started to veer to the east of the group, which caused the slack in the cable to be used up much more quickly.

  As Tom watched, the dragon reached the end of the cable, and then his flight took the form of a ground facing arc, where he dived nose first into the dirt in the middle of the field. The crash felt like the energy of two semis colliding, but after laying inert for less than five seconds, the dragon shook its head and got back onto its feet. It backed away from the cable until it reached the end of it, and with a mighty jerk, it pulled the harpoon out of its flesh.

  The reptile shook itself, and if it had feathers, they would have been ruffled up. It flapped its wings a couple of flaps, and then it took to the sky once more. Tom had not had time to reload the harpoon, and did not want to detach the cable anyway, so he had to watch helplessly as the dragon began to flap away.

  It was with a great deal of satisfaction that, almost before the beast had got off the ground, the Thunderbird was on him. It completed a typical hawk’s strafing run at the dragon, and pierced it through the spinal cord around the front shoulders with its talons. The dragon hit the ground once more, and the bird flapped in the air above the beast, jerking its talons deep into the reptile until she was satisfied that the dragon was dead. At last, the Thunderbird let loose of the lizard, and flapped away toward the east and home.

  As soon as the Thunderbird was gone, Charlie went over to the dragon’s carcass and pulled two items from the knapsack that he habitually carried. For some reason, it would seem from what he could pull out of the sack, that it was far bigger on the inside than the outside would ever suggest. This time, he pulled a sharply gleaming knife and a wooden cask from the sack, along with an odd looking chainmail gauntlet.

  He stabbed chest of the dragon’s corpse with the knife, and jig sawed a line through the scales. It must have been one hell of a knife, because it cut through scales reputed to be very tough as though they were butter. Once he had made the incision, he put the gauntlet on his hand, and reached into the wound with the protected hand, eventually pulling out of the dragon something that gleamed in sapphire flames from the place where the beast’s heart should be. He placed the glowing object into the cask, and he closed the lid, and locked the tiny lock on the chest shaped container.

  Charlie sauntered back to the group, and handed the cask to Vera. “We will take this back to the Sorcerer.” He said. “We will need the heart of the dragon when we use the four artifacts.” With that, he started back the small distance to the jeep. A short time later, the group was relocated at Diane’s for one more night of familial debauchery before resuming the completion of the tasks.

  The next morning, they all got up and shared a delightful country breakfast together, before embarking on the return trip to Camden and the Herald’s compound. The return trip was uneventful, and two hours of leisurely travel saw them back at the destination.

  They had thought that bringing Charlie back with them would be the biggest change in population that they would see, but they were surprised by the addition of two more persons to the household. Tyr the one-handed was there to greet them, and with him was another man, whom he introduced to the group as Heimdall the far seer. Heimdall was almost too white to see, whiter than any albino, and dressed in white. He must have been taller than seven feet, and he could easily have been five feet wide at the shoulders, but he was undeniably pure muscle. He looked like he could have bench-pressed a Cadillac.

  The most striking thing about Heimdall wasn’t his pure whiteness, or his size or dimensions, or even that he spoke seldom, softly and carefully. The only thing about him that wasn’t white was his eyes. They were a glowing golden color, and as soon as you saw them, you would think that they didn’t belong to a man. They were definitely the eyes of an eagle.

  ******

  21 The Coming

  Tom and Karla had joined the others at the courtyard table. Everybody was there, laughing and relaxing. The conversation was currently on the subject of funny events in each person’s history. Charlie was speaking.

  “I remember when I first met Rafe at the University on his worldline. He was curious and a great learner, but he was a lousy student.” Charlie chuckled. “I remember the first time he caught wind of the idea of walking the worldlines. He was full of questions. When I started trying to get him to practice meditation and visualization, he almost left because he thought I was trying to pick him up!”

  “So how did you convince him you were on the up and up?” Markus asked. Everyone around the table leaned a bit closer.

  “Oh, I slept with his girlfriend.” Charlie laughed. “Once she advertised what I was like in the sack, he couldn’t say I was homosexual.” That got a few giggles.

  “I remember when we all dyed a chicken purple, and put it on his head while he was sleeping.” Tyr blurted out. “It was at the Battle of Order and Chaos, and he had had a dream about a purple bird.”

  “You looked a little uncomfortable around his wolf during that time.” Heimdall remarked. “It wasn’t like Fenrir. The worst Lobo would have done to you is lick you to death.”

  “You guys going to talk about Rafe all night?” Tom asked. “I start to think that you do have a thing for him.”

  “Change of subject.” Karla said. “What are our chances of pulling this repair thing off?”

  All the old heads looked at Heimdall, and Tyr said “Heimdallr, son of the nine waves, Watcher and Foreseer, your past is shrouded even to you, but you see the things to come. What will our efforts bring?”

  “As the Book of Worlds confirms, the near hand brings success.” Heimdall said. “But what Order builds, the left hand of Chaos will one day destroy.” He smiled, and the gold of his teeth matched the gold of his eyes.

  “Great. You just said that it will work until it doesn’t.” Tom grouched. “With wisdom like that, who needs stupid?”

  After that, the conversation continued in that vein for a bit. The book of worlds that Heimdall referred to was an average of the results in nearby worldlines. Heimdall was able to see the nearby worldlines directly, and could get a good idea of the chances of a particular outcome in one reality by finding the average results in the ones around it.

  Heimdall had been around so long that even he had no idea where he had come from. The myths of the Aesir said that he might have been one of the old people, the Vanir, who were also reputed to have the power of precognition as a racial trait. He didn’t know, and if he was of the Vanir, he must not have fit in very well with them, as he was different from them as well.

  The Herald changed the subject to the imminent coming of his master, the mysterious Cernunnos, the former King of the First City. He was overjoyed with the prospect of seeing him again, which gave Tom the chance to goad him by suggesting homosexual overtones to their relationship. Karla whispered to Tom that he might not want to get the Herald pissed at him, considering that he might need him to survive the coming tasks. Tom agreed, but pushing people’s buttons was far too much fun to discontinue entirely.

  “Speaking of Cernunnos, He and the Seer spoke to me earlier.” Th
e Sorcerer stated. “They will be here in the next half hour or so. I suggest that we move into the parlor to await their coming.”

  The supply of beer was in the fridge close by that parlor, so everybody agreed that the move was a good idea. Five minutes later, the group was settled in the parlor, sitting on the couches and chairs available, drinking beer and in Tyr’s case, some golden mead. Vera grabs the day’s newspaper off of the table and reads the Headline. ‘Thousands Dead in Belize, Nanobot Infection Suspected.’

  The American government had been getting more intense in its response to perceived opposition; in this case a large percentage of the population of Belize was American Ex Pats, who were no longer paying US taxes. It was generally assumed that the government didn’t mind making an example of those ‘tax dodgers’, and those nifty little Nanobots were a terrible way to die.

  This world had gone to hell in a hand-basket, as they say these days. One could chalk up some of the mess to normal human idiocy, but the damage to the worldlines reality had to take credit for some of the damage. The group had discussed the subject and come to some conclusions. A worldline develops a consensus reality when the people living there all have expectations and assumptions about reality in common. Then, the expectations will tend to reinforce the common elements, and aberrant factors will tend to be rejected by the reality.

  The problem was that now the world had become increasingly complex. The virtual reality brought by electronics, the overlapping and contradictory events, reports on increasingly ever-present news channels, and the overwhelmingly unanchored lifestyles of the people in the modern world have all conspired to make the assumptions and expectations of the people take on a probabilistic quality of their own. How does a consensus reality stabilize when the people have no firm expectations of reality, when anything is just as likely to the human mind as any other?