Rogue Ragtime

by K Alexis

  "Thanks," Agra said. "But I'm not out of the metaphorical woods yet."

  "No," Tath conceded while swirling her cup. "Exiting a toxic relationship is easier when your ex isn't around." She glanced at the still-to-be-replaced Ara clock in the middle of the foyer. "I guess we'll find out how good last night's sex was when Junko arrives in a minute or so. Maybe don't blurt out you fucked someone else the moment you smell her perfume."

  "Thanks for the advice … and your shiny optimism about my secret-keeping skills," Agra replied.

  Tath smiled at him. "Eh, the least I can do after I was so shitty to you." She sipped her beverage. "I'm glad you told me about being a Corsair. A little late, but appreciated nevertheless."

  "Hey, I promise that next time a childhood friend turns out to be a psychopath, I'll let you know immediately. I'll even send it via express post." He drunk his coffee and looked around the station. Unlike the rest of Ras Al Khaimah, it was a mess. The graffiti-art that used to cover the mundane brick walls was scorched and, in some places, completely erased. Pillars and poster boards were chipped and often glowing green or red from the spells they had been hit with. Even the vendor's stall Tath had bought their drinks from was dinged despite it having thick titanium sides and a roller-window that could snap shut at any sign of trouble.

  Mea and Steh returned from the shop without having purchased anything. Similar to Tath and himself, they wore their fighting clothes: baggy pants and loose-fitting tops—or, in the case of Steh, his jacket as well. Agra tried to imagine how their inventor could be so unfazed by his almost-murderer that he had been able to wander off with her. "Are you alright?" he asked Steh awkwardly, hoping it might open up the chance for a dialogue between the group members.

  Steh regarded him blankly. "Yes," the inventor answered. He put his hands in his pockets. "I believe you're the one who's about to have an ordeal." He nodded toward the incoming train.

  In contrast to Ras Al Khaimah's stream promotions, the train did not arrive noiselessly with its metal gleaming under the station's lights. It screeched as it stopped at the platform, and its doors took several attempts to fully open. The few passengers waiting boarded the train as about half a dozen or so got off. They wore a mish-mash of clothing, which ranged from an abaya to bell-bottoms with a tube top.

  Junko and Nal were last. The advocate looked almost precisely as he had done the day before. In contrast, Junko wore something Agra had never imagined seeing her in—the all-pink jumpsuit of a trainee harmonizer. He found he could not stop admiring how it flattered her lollipop figure. As he surveyed her hips, he felt her cedar-colored eyes glare at him and not leave his face for a full five seconds.

  Nal shuffled in front of the group and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "This heat can go to hell," he said. "White man isn't genetically endowed for these types of assignments." He made a dismissive motion toward Junko. "This is my confirmer. If she makes a mess of something, draw up an issue sketch and send it to the main office. She was not my first choice."

  "My name is Junko," Agra's ex said, shaking each of their hands. Once finished, she returned to her perfectly upright stance and clasped her hands behind her back.

  Agra found the image of an obedient Junko absurd and let out a small chuckle. She scowled at him. "Is something funny, sir?" she asked.

  "No. I always imagined harmonizers as taller."

  Before she could respond, Nal intervened, "If you want to flirt with my staff, you can do it at a bar when she's off duty." He flicked his cigarette. "Nobody should harass a person working."

  "Sorry," Agra replied. "I was—"

  "Can it. I've heard all the bullshit I can take for a lifetime when it comes to sexual 'whoopsies.'" He gave them a once over. "Is this how you meet royalty in your own tracts?"

  "If we were meeting an Araian sheik—" Tath began.

  "Shut that mouth, right now," Nal commanded. "Booking sympathizers. I've got no evidence, but from the first moment I laid eyes on you lot, I felt you were readers. And if those higher-ups didn't want Stehlan so patriarchal much, I would have stowed you all in a damp dungeon till I could have sorted out the truth of this ruse." He motioned to Junko. "Check them for weapons."

  She snapped her fingers and summoned a bag. "We will return all items at the end of the meeting," she said.

  Agra could feel Tath deferring to him for guidance. He gave his cup to Junko, took off his knives sheath and put it in the front pocket. "We are meeting royalty," he said.

  Tath followed suit, placing her quiver in the second compartment. Mea had nothing, but Steh was more difficult.

  "I have these cards," he said. He levitated them so they were in a constant spiral. "They are adapted N-Comms."

  "Are they weapons?" Junko asked, her contralto voice more strident than Agra was used to.

  "No," Steh said.

  She maintained eye contact with the inventor as she plucked one from the air and ran a thumb over it. "I don't like them."

  Steh snapped his fingers and they disappeared. "They're in your bag."

  Junko opened the third pocket and reached in. Agra could hear the clinking of metal. "He's a celestial, sir," she said to Nal.

  "Patriarchy and its abusers be damned." Nal flicked his cigarette stub at Steh. "What kind of celestial are you?" he asked.

  "Pure," Steh replied.

  Nal rubbed his forehead and paced up and down in front of them. "Why do you have to be Stehlan? Why couldn't it have been one of the others?" He looked at his watch and tapped its face. "Can you check?" he asked Junko.

  "Sir?"

  "You're the mage assigned to me. Do the wizard thing."

  "There's no way to confirm or deny how he received his powers in public." Junko nodded toward the recent arrivals who were waiting for the next train.

  Nal pulled out his N-Comm and searched for something. After a while of scrolling, what Agra guessed was Steh's history, Nal put his communicator away. "We're going," he commanded. "It won't matter in the null, anyway."

  Mea interjected, "We're going to a null?"

  Nal sneered. "Yes, little girl, we're going to a null with administrators and powerful magicians. All your fancy woo-woo and light displays aren't going to save you now. It's my way or the dead way."

  Twenty-nine: The Colonizers

  THE FOUR ADVENTURERS sat in the waiting room. It was twenty-feet high and its roof was a spherical stained-glass skylight. It depicted the lineage of the post-Cataclysm Ras Al Khaimah sheiks up until the emirate had discovered climate tampering. In total, there had been six rulers: five sheikhs and one shakaya. The last one, a woman, had emerald eyes and burn marks all over her body. When the sun's rays directly hit her portrait, she sung "Float till the Shore is Gone." She was also the Navigator the group had been sent to save.

  The room's soaring walls were sepia-colored, and a mishmash of curios hung from them. No type of curation seemed to have been applied to the relics as they ranged from a single grain of white sand to century-old daggers to a ring that granted its wearer the power of flight. Despite its haphazard nature, the display captured the essence of Ras Al Khaimah's rise to technological dominance and war-torn present.

  As the group waited, most of them said nothing. Steh sat closest to the monstrous throne-room doors with his cards out. He was using a number of minute tools to adjust their miniscule gears and cogs. Tath sat next him, her head rolling backward as her eyes fluttered between half open and three-quarters closed. After her was Mea, who remained motionless as she sat reading the first Hemi ngèr book. Finally came Agra, he was attempting to converse with Junko.

  "I heard there's a golem in Ras Al Khaimah," Agra said. "Is it friendly one?"

  "Sir, please refrain from asking questions until Advocate Nal returns."

  "The folktales I've read say they're made from elemental substances: wood, fire, metal, electricity—those types of things. You wouldn't know which type lived here, would you? I'm thinking of becoming a golem hunter—travelling the globe and t
aking pictures of them for a stream channel. "

  "Sir," Junko repeated.

  "Okay, so you don't like the stream-channel idea. How about … I ask Stehlan to create a device to control them? My group could turn them into a zoo exhibit. People have done worse things."

  Junko's eyes flashed at Agra—indicating one of the knife-wielder's guesses had hit its mark.

  "So, you are looking to control it," he stated. "That's a very Grinner act."

  "I am a Neomer, the same as you."

  Agra raised his hands and leaned back in the chair. He looked up at the ceiling. "Touché. I would have given the golem what it wanted though. I'm kind-hearted like that."

  "Who says I'm not trying to?" she responded.

  "Oh? And what would a being that powerful desire?"

  "Sir, please," Junko pleaded. "All will be revealed as Advocate Nal decrees."

  "Fine. Fine. Can you at least tell me where she is?" He pointed at the shakaya on the stained-glass ceiling. "A friend of ours is worried about her."

  "Si—"

  The large, black doors opened. The sunlight reflected off their gold trim and flickered around Tath's face. She opened her eyes and stretched. "Is it time?" she asked.

  Nal poked his head through the doorway and announced, "Rector Ulrich requests your presence."

  The group struggled to their feet and began to pat themselves down. "Make sure you have your hotel card," Tath reminded Agra. "I left mine in a bank vault once, and I had to pay for two rooms because the staff got their knickers in a twist about it."

  "What are you doing?" Nal snapped. "They aren't going to wait all day. What kind of clown kingdom do you think this is?" He beckoned for the group to hurry through the door.

  There was no natural luminescence in the chamber the adventurers entered. The only light came from cylindrical containers attached to the redwood-sized pillars placed meticulously throughout the room. Despite the lighting's faintness, the lanterns' faded auras stood in sharp contrast to the bubbling darkness they were unable to significantly penetrate. Whether it was up, to the left or to the right, a vast void seemed to hover beyond the pockets of visibility the light produced. The effect of these extremes made the room appear as if it had no limitations and stretched to eternity.

  Nal led the way, his brisk pace forcing everyone but Agra into a trot. The speed kept the group quiet until Tath made a cooing sound. It reverberated in front of them and then dissipated as it collided with the gloom. There were no more echoes after that.

  "Where the fuck are we?" Tath whispered to Mea.

  "A magical prison," Mea answered. "This is similar to what Elia placed Steh in."

  "I'll have to adjust my opinion of her after thi—"

  "Shut your traps," Nal yelled from the front. "We're almost there."

  They lapsed into silence, and for a few extra minutes they continued along the desolate path until a dot in the distance could be seen. As they strode closer and closer to the unknown object, it transformed into a crescent-shaped altar and in the middle of the edifice was a platform with two thrones. Eventually, thirty steps separated the group from a tiny pallid man sitting in one of the seats on the terrace. He was surrounded by dancers wearing elaborate dresses made from strands of rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. A bored and equally white woman sat on the other royal seat, tapping her N-Comm furiously.

  "Welcome to my kingdom, Stehlan Ehrans," Ulrich announced in a baritone voice.

  Tath exchanged looks with Agra. "Your kingdom?" she asked. "I thought you were a rector, not an emperor."

  Ulrich regarded the woman on the throne next to his. "They always do this," he said. When she did not reply, he clapped his hands. "Giselle? There are people here."

  "Uh huh. Off with their hands."

  "We invited them."

  "Off with their heads."

  Ulrich coughed. "My soul partner is having trouble with her … passion. I am gravely sorry."

  "I was asking about it being your kingdom," Tath persisted, her arms crossed.

  "A misstep of words, I assure you. We are but humble servants of the United Country Parliament."

  "A parliament that couldn't find a single Grinner who had an Araian heritage," Tath retorted.

  Ulrich stood up and the robe he was wearing parted, revealing a skinny and underfed frame. He gestured for the dancers to move to the side of him. "I admit it does look colonial for there to be two white rulers, but we were selected through a rigorous process."

  "You're thinking you're a king again," Mea commented with her nose still stuck in the book.

  Ulrich clenched his fists and seemed to force a smile. "Thank you for correcting me."

  "Oh, you're listening." Mea looked up. "In that case, I would rethink the dancing girls. They send mixed messages."

  Ulrich grinned, baring all his teeth and stretching his mouth as if he was a marionette in a performance. "Men have needs too. Ours might be more expansive, to be sure, but they are equally valid."

  "I don't have those needs," Agra chimed in.

  "They do seem more like individualistic wants than gender-based proclivities," Steh added.

  "Giselle," Ulrich implored, "talk to the commoners."

  Giselle put down her communicator. "It doesn't matter what you blights think because we are the most appropriate choice to manage this tract. We speak the language, know the culture and can fashionably wear the attire. A democratic meritocracy is about having the most qualified person in the job, not someone whose only qualifying feature is their descent from royalty. This is the freedom we're bringing to every citizen across the world—the freedom of opportunity."

  "Ah," Steh responded caustically, "the Grinner way: the more skilled you are designated to be, the more votes you have. How could a competence-based system built, judged and run by white people ever be wrong?"

  "Perfection is the enemy of good, spectacle face," Giselle snapped. "Our proven government is the future. Everything else is barbarism steeped in patriarchy. Why should a woman with two degrees, who can conjure lightning from her fingers, have the same democratic power as a man who tosses seeds in the ground? Why should an eighty-year-old matriarch have their vote negated by a boy who questions a woman's ability to lead? This is the only way forward. Rise up and take it!" She stood and beckoned to the darkness surrounding them. The sound of thousands of hands clapping could be heard beyond the lights.

  "That is why we need Stehlan Ehrans," Ulrich said. "With the power of climate tampering, the United Country will finally be able to bring equality of opportunity to the globe. Ancient religions, barbarism and self-serving political structures will become a thing of the past." He rubbed his hands. "Now, which one of you lovely things is she?"

  Nal cleared his throat.

  "Yes?" Ulrich said.

  "Stehlan Ehrans is a man. I mentioned it in my communication."

  "Ludicrous," Ulrich said. "No man could have invented the endless vacuum. No man could have designed the braggart boyfriend. They are trivial pursuits unworthy of a serious mind."

  Steh took his glasses off and cleaned them. "I'd forgotten about those," he said. "My parents really did try to squeeze the last dime out of my name."

  "Are you blaming your parents for the mistake?" Giselle interjected, spittle flying from her mouth.

  "Well, they did declare me dead and—"

  The hidden audience interrupted the inventor with more claps and cheers, causing the four adventurers to exchange glances. The crowd continued to roar in support of Steh's unfinished statement.

  Ulrich rapidly patted himself down and pulled out a remote; he pushed a button on it. The crowd transitioned into boos.

  Junko's fingers twitched. "There's no-one out there," she said as both a statement and a question.

  Ulrich cleared this throat. "There are thousands out there," he said. Yelling and cursing erupted from the blackness.

  "There's no golem," Junko stated, mostly to herself. "It's a ruse."

  "Confirme
r Junko, what are you mumbling about?" Nal snapped.

  "This," she replied, pulling out a detonator from the backpack she had used to take the group's weapons earlier. She pushed the button and threw the bag to Agra.

  Small explosions erupted all around the moon-shaped edifice. Cracks appeared in the structure, and then, as if in slow motion, the gaudy symbol of power collapsed in on itself.

  Nal detached a previously cloaked crossbow from his belt. "This ain't my first time dealing with ungrateful youth," he sneered. He fired three arrows at the group and sprinted behind the rubble. "You kids better get, or there'll be real trouble."

  The five "kids" took refuge behind the pillars. Mea and Tath were on one side, Agra, Steh and Junko on the other. A number of arrows flew past them.

  "Can you get my shit out any slower?" Tath yelled at Agra. She flicked her wrist and summoned her bow.

  Agra threw over the archer's formerly confiscated equipment. "Was this your plan?" he asked Junko as he slid on his knife sheath.

  "I'm not telling," she replied. She leaned up and pecked him on the cheek. "Any reason you didn't come and see me last night?"

  "Where's Nal?" Tath hollered.

  "He's six feet wide of us and about fifteen yards down," Agra replied. He refocused on Junko. "I really do want to talk to you … but not at the moment."

  Tath flicked through her arrows and selected a blue one. "Is he dodging or weaving? Is anyone else alive?"

  As if to answer her question, the debris erupted. In the middle, Giselle stood with a seemingly metal shield surrounding her. She moved her right hand up and levitated the corpses of Ulrich and the dancers off the ground. "A traitor?" she bellowed. "You thought treachery would win the day?" She shot her hand forward and a shockwave followed, hurling the bodies of the deceased into the pillars providing cover for the group.

  "What kind of magic?" Agra asked Steh, wiping away some of Ulrich's blood that had splattered on him.

  "Hard to say," the inventor replied.

  "Guess if you have to."

  "It seems magnetic, but that would make her a celestial mage. They're rare."